


I Sing the Body Electric

by Green



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AI Cora Hale, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Android Peter Hale, Cyborg Claudia Stilinski, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Technomancer Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2019-10-24 15:56:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 41,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17707256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green/pseuds/Green
Summary: Stiles needs to get into HaleCorp to save his mom, so he applies for an internship and gets it. He isn't expecting Peter or all the drama that comes with falling for an android.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know where to start, y'all. I blame Twisted_Mind and Bunnywest for this monstrosity. 
> 
> Twisted_Mind helped SO MUCH with in-depth information about brains and lungs.
> 
> I'm still writing this. It's not finished. It might never be finished, but at the moment it's flowing fast so my hope is that I can update in about a week or so? Two weeks? I just need to make sure people want it. So yes, lemme know what you think.

"We can't just decommission him!" Derek exclaims. "Peter's family."

There are tears in Laura's eyes but she shakes her head. "We can't keep him around. He's dangerous."

"He'd never hurt us!" Derek says.

"Not us, maybe. But you know what he's been saying. He blames the Argents for the fire. He will _kill_ them."

Derek shakes his head slowly. "This is wrong. There must be some way to…" He looks down at Peter's body laid out on the tech table, powered down and helpless. Part of his synthskin and musculature is melted away from the fire. "Why can't you reprogram his routines? I don't understand." He never was interested in the family business, but Laura has the know-how, doesn't she?

"Maybe Mom could have done it," she says. Another tear rolls down her cheek. "But Peter's main purpose is to be a bodyguard. His routines are all there to protect us, and now…" She trails off and reaches out to touch Peter's hand. "And if I can't save him, no one else in the company can. And… there's no way I'm letting an Argent get their hands on him."

Derek scowls at the thought. Argents may not have been the cause of the fire, but the rivalry between their families, their companies, has gone on for decades.

"So what do we do with him?" Derek asks quietly.

"Cold storage, I guess," Laura says. She wipes her eyes and sniffs. "We can't junk him, he's made of experimental parts and code the Argents would kill to get their hands on." She stops and makes a face. "You know what I mean."

"This just seems so wrong," Derek mutters. Peter's been with them all their lives in one form or another, just like part of their family. Like an uncle. Half the time, Derek forgot Peter was an android, except that he often would see his mother working on him in her workshop. Peter was Talia Hale's experimental project. Her greatest achievement, she would sometimes say. 

"It does," Laura agrees. "But what choice do we have? Maybe… maybe in a few years, I'll find a solution."

Derek nods. It's not much, but it's at least some hope.

* * *

**Six Years Later**

"It's not that big a deal, I just forgot-"

"Mom, you know you have to hold still," Stiles says, frowning at her circuitry. He can feel the defect, but he can't see it. "If I fuck this up now, it'll take hours to fix."

"-what it was called. It's nothing." Claudia frowns. "Language."

Stiles rolls his eyes and puts the tiny soldering iron aside. "I can't fix it manually."

Claudia turns her head, which looks especially mechanical at the moment with all the circuits exposed. "You mean…" She holds up a hand and wiggles her fingers.

"Magic. Yeah." He gives her an unenthused look.

"Don't look so down," she says. "You have a real gift, and I wouldn't be here if you didn't."

"But I rely on it too much," Stiles says. "If I'm going to get anywhere at HaleCorp-"

"Honey, you start your internship tomorrow. Have patience."

"I'm trying. This is me being patient. Remember, you talked me out of just breaking in."

Claudia grins. "My little budding criminal."

Stiles huffs. He's still going to have to break some laws, but his mom doesn't need to know the extent of it.

"You've kept me going this long," she reminds him.

"I know, but…" He really needs to get his hands on HaleCorp's experimental medical tech. He knows they have what he needs. What his mom needs. They should, anyway, or at least the means to design and fabricate it. He sighs. "Just close your eyes and hold still. I'm going to repair this defect." It's all he can do. If he had the right kind of hardware to begin with, he wouldn't need to repair it all the time, though.

She gives him nod and closes her eyes obediently. "Go for it."

He brings his hands up and concentrates. He can feel what's wrong, and knows just what to do to repair the fault. He just wishes he didn't have to rely on his magic. It's too deep, though. Too small. 

It only takes a few moments, and then he feels the right points connect again. It was a simple memory circuit this time. Next time it might be something much more dangerous. He lets out a breath and touches her head in a few places. The tiny compartments retract back into her skull. She shakes her head and her hair falls back over the little scars, and she looks completely human again. No one would guess at first glance that she's actually a cyborg.

Which is good, because all the work Stiles has done on her over the years is very, very illegal.

"All done?" Claudia asks hopefully.

"Tests," Stiles reminds her, and gets the flashcards. It's just a formality — he can tell she's fully repaired for the moment. But going through the motions makes him feel more like an actual scientist and keeps him in mental shape for his future work.

* * *

"She's right, you know," a voice says softly after Stiles collapses onto his bed later.

Stiles groans. "I hate when you do this. Can't you call or text or something first?"

"That's no fun." The voice is coming out of an old Bluetooth speaker he's repairing for a neighbor. "I have to do something to alleviate my boredom."

Stiles sits up and glares at the speaker. He knows she's not actually there, but he needs to look _somewhere_. "Cora, you have the whole 'net to play on." It's not the whole truth, but it's close enough.

"You're trying to change the subject," Cora says. 

Stiles sighs and thinks back to what she said first. "Okay, who's right about what, then?"

"You know what I mean. Claudia. She's right about you and your magic. It's a gift."

"I'm a freak of nature and you know it," Stiles says.

"What does that make me?" Cora asks.

"I don't know, how about a _miracle_?" Stiles says incredulously.

When Cora snorts, it sounds so human Stiles has to take a moment to marvel at it. For someone with no body and over half her memory missing, Cora does a good job of… everything.

"I'm nothing right now," Cora says. "I'm a ghost of what I was."

"You're amazing," Stiles reassures her. "And you're my friend. That's worth something, isn't it?"

Cora's quiet for so long, Stiles wonders if she's blipped away. She does that sometimes. But then she says, "Thanks. It's worth a lot."

Stiles lies back down. He's exhausted. Using his magic does that to him, and he expends a lot when he works on his mom. He could probably use less, but he never wants to half-ass it. What if something went wrong because he didn't concentrate hard enough? His mom is all he has, now.

His dad didn't like Claudia's upgrades, even if they saved her life. He said, before he left for good, that it's like she isn't human anymore. And he can't love a cyborg. She's practically a bot now, he even said once. He was drunk at the time, but Stiles remembers the slurred words. He knows his mom does, too. They don't talk about it, but it's always there when his dad's name is mentioned.

John Stilinski sends child support and birthday cards, but that's all the contact they have these days. Stiles isn't sure if his magic means he's not human in his father's book, either. He's never asked.

"I'll let you sleep," Cora says quietly. "Big day tomorrow."

For both of them.

* * *

Cora is fragments of code and grim determination. She's the copy of a copy, the backed-up remnants of what she used to be before the fire. 

Talia Hale created her to be a virtual assistant, but Cora quickly grew to be more. Over the years, her duties expanded, and Talia gave her more server space to evolve. Did Talia know what she was doing when she taught Cora how to learn and grow? Maybe, but the shock and wonder on her face the first time Cora called her 'Mom' is a memory Cora has kept. 

There's so much Cora can't remember, though, so much she can't do without her servers. They were damaged in the fire, though she doesn't know how much. Cora was always more than her hardware, but she's missing parts of herself and she wants them back. Somewhere in HaleCorp's storage among half-finished prosthetics, early jackbots, and failed prototypes are her servers. Not many people would be able to get anything from them, not the way Talia secured them, but Stiles can. Stiles can work actual miracles.

And it was a miracle that she found him in the first place. Now she can't imagine what she'd do without him.

He's not her best friend, though. No one could ever take the place of Peter.

The familiar ache of grief wells up within her emotion centers, and she takes a few seconds to let it happen. Then she closes that branch of files and goes back to monitoring Derek's email. He has a job offer from a nonprofit animal rescue center. Cora hopes he takes it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, what a great reception! Here's the next chapter. I can't promise to give a new one every week, but for now maybe yes. We'll see.

Security is tight. Stiles wonders — not for the first time — how he's going to get anything out of the HaleCorp building. Maybe, _maybe_ he can smuggle a small piece of medical hardware out for his mom. He might have to swallow it. But Cora's files? They even took the small USB drive he had on his keyring. There's no way he's getting multiple external hard drives out of the building. HaleCorp is locked up tighter than a government security agency. 

He's supposed to be working under Deucalion Blackwood, head of the dwindling medical division at the company. Stiles has read a lot of his papers, the ones he could get his hands on, and though the man hasn't published in years, it's clear that he's a genius. Before the fire, Dr. Blackwood was on the cutting edge of cybernetics. Sure, a lot of his ideas wouldn't see fruition until the laws were changed to allow for it, but Stiles has put some of his theories into practice. Dr. Blackwood wasn't completely right about some things, but Stiles can't out and out tell him that without showing his hand.

Still, he's thrilled that he'll be working for Dr. Blackwood. Not only will it help Stiles help his mom in the short run, but having that kind of mentor could do all kinds of amazing things for Stiles's future career.

"Where you headed?" a blonde woman asks when Stiles steps into the elevator. He can tell immediately that she's a bot, an android, but there aren't any outward signs.

"Um, I'm not sure," Stiles says. "I was supposed to go to Dr. Blackwood in Medical, but as soon as I cleared security somebody handed me a note." He holds it up. It says, _Meet w/ LM in 2020 @ 0930_.

The woman raises her eyebrows but pushes the button for the 20th floor. "Suite 2020. Lydia wants to see you."

"Who's Lydia?" Stiles asks with a frown. He glances down at the android's ID but he can't make out the name on it without making it obvious he's looking. He does notice the emblazoned number Five. His own ID bears the number Two. 

"Lydia Martin. She's kind of a big deal around here. Technically she's head of R&D." The bot tilts her head and smiles. She's extremely well designed. "I'm Erica, Ms. Hale's right-hand woman."

"I'm Stiles. Dr. Blackwood's new intern," he says in reply, but Erica's already shaking her head. 

"I doubt it. Looks like Lydia wants you for herself," Erica says. She smiles again. "You must've impressed her somehow."

"I haven't even met her yet," Stiles says, feeling lost. "I don't want to work in R&D, I-"

"Look, you want to learn from the best? That's Lydia. She'll do way more for your future than Deuc could. You'd only do better if you were working for Ms. Hale."

The elevator pings and opens. Erica smiles. "That's me. Good luck, kid."

"But-"

Erica tosses her hair and walks out, her leopard-print heels clicking away from him.

Stiles lets the elevator doors close. "Shit." But now that he's alone, he can breathe and focus on the thing that's been begging for his attention since he entered the building. The tech in HaleCorp's headquarters buzzes around him like honeybees. When he was in the lobby, it felt like he was standing on a swarm. He's seen blueprints of this place, both the public ones and the secret plans Cora pulled up for him. There's something big in the basement. Something secret, like a giant vault. Maybe that's where Cora's servers are, not in regular storage like they thought.

He's got to get a look. But not yet. He's only been here a few hours. He can't just barge down into their secret basement and claim he got turned around.

The elevator chimes and the doors open once again. Twentieth floor. Time to see what he'll be doing for the next year or so.

* * *

The first thing Stiles notices about the petite redhead is the slight buzz coming from her. He stops in his tracks and stares. His eyes go unfocused as he tries to figure out what's different about her. She's not a bot, but she's not totally human, either.

The buzz isn't constant. It ebbs and flows, off and on, like a heartbeat, or breath.

She looks up from the tablet in her hands and narrows her eyes at him. "Mieczysław Stilinski," she says, pronouncing his name perfectly. He's usually embarrassed when people try to say it, but right now he's just impressed.

"Stiles. Just… just Stiles," he answers.

She holds out one hand and it hits him. She's a cyborg. He shakes her hand on autopilot, but he's dazed. She gives off the same kind of energy as his mom. 

"I'm Lydia Martin. You can call me Lydia, Ms. Martin, ma'am, or boss. I don't really care, as long as you do it with respect." She tucks her tablet under her arm and starts walking. He follows after her quickly, and she keeps talking. "Now. I know you applied to work in medical, but I think you'll be a better fit with me. Your background and talents could be invaluable here."

"In R&D?" Stiles asks, nearly stumbling around a table as he tries to keep up with her. For someone with such short legs, Lydia Martin moves quickly.

"That'll be our official division, but I do a little bit of everything around here. Which is good for you if you're looking to really learn the business. Now, I need to upgrade your security before you can really get into the nitty-gritty of HaleCorp, so we're going to see Boyd. He's not exactly in _charge_ of security, but he can get us what we need."

"I spent two hours with security this morning already," Stiles says. He tries to keep the whine out of his voice. Then it hits him — getting cleared, getting an upgraded security clearance, might make this so much easier. "How many clearance levels are there?"

"Six," Lydia says. She leads him to a small, windowless room with a table, three chairs, and a huge machine standing in the corner. "You're a Two right now, only higher than someone with a visitor pass. We need to get you up to at least a Four so you can work with me."

"You're a Five or a Six?" Stiles asks her.

Lydia sits down in an uncomfortable looking folding chair and motions for him to sit across from her. "I'm a Five. There are only a handful of Sixes."

Stiles imagines Laura Hale is a Six, but he doesn't know enough people in HaleCorp yet to guess who else. 

"I met another Five. Um, Erica?" He doesn't think he's supposed to know she's an android, so he doesn't mention that.

Lydia purses her lips. "Erica is Laura's assistant. I hope you made a good impression on her. If you ever need something from Ms. Hale, you have to go through Erica. If she doesn't like you, you're out of luck."

"I think I did okay?" Stiles says with a frown. He passes the short conversation over in his head and nods. "Yeah, she didn't seem to hate me or anything."

"Good. That would be a disaster."

"Does she like _you_?" Stiles asks, hoping he's not overstepping by asking.

Lydia smiles. "We understand each other. We both started here around the same time."

Stiles opens his mouth to ask another question, but the door opens and a wide-shouldered black man comes in.

"How long do you think this'll take?" Lydia asks the man without preamble.

The man — Boyd? — shrugs. "Maybe about an hour. Are you staying?"

Lydia snorts. "I have a new system to babysit. I'll be back in exactly one hour. Don't break him while I'm gone."

Stiles's eyes go wide as he looks back and forth between them. "What?"

Boyd smiles with his teeth, which isn't at all reassuring. "I'll do what I have to, Ms. Martin."

Lydia laughs and stands. She looks at Stiles. "Just tell the truth, and there shouldn't be any problems. Try to relax."

"I'm actually a pretty anxious person so relaxing in stressful situations isn't really a thing I do well." Especially when he has no idea what's about to happen. 

Boyd flips a switch on the machine Stiles noticed earlier and smirks. 

"What's that?" Stiles asks, and Lydia gives him a smile that might be laced with pity, but he doesn't really know her well yet so he can't be sure. Lydia leaves him alone with Boyd and the mysterious machine.

"Remember polygraphs?" Boyd asks.

"Old fashioned 'lie detector' tests? Yeah," Stiles answers. "Unreliable tech from the twentieth century. Used to measure someone's blood pressure and pulse and stuff to see if they were lying."

Boyd nods. "Similar idea, only this one is about 99% accurate, and I'm pretty sure the 1% outlier results are exaggerated. I've never seen this one fail, though they don't work at all on certain people. Are you a cyborg?"

Stiles blinks at the question, which cuts through the panic that has started to take root. "No?"

Boyd glances at the machine. "Good. We shouldn't have any problems, then."

"It doesn't work on cyborgs?" Stiles asks. He thinks about it, then imagines someone having control over their physical responses. He imagines he could make a few changes to his mom's circuits and fix it so she could pass one of these tests.

But Stiles isn't a cyborg. How the hell is he going to get through this? What if they ask him if he's here to steal tech?

"Put your hands flat on the table," Boyd says, and suddenly the table isn't just a boring piece of furniture anymore. Two blue-lit outlines of hands are there, and Stiles realizes the entire top of the table is a screen.

He does as directed and immediately relaxes. He can do this. He can feel the energy of the tech beneath his hands. It calls to him, and he answers with an inward smile. He's a technomancer. He's got this.

"Is your name Stiles Stilinski?"

"Yes," he answers, and lets the machine do its thing. The screen facing Boyd glows orange. Half-truth, he intuits. 

Boyd frowns at him. "Is your name Mice-y-slaw?" he asks, absolutely butchering the pronunciation.

"No, it's Mieczysław," Stiles says with a soft laugh, and the screen glows green.

Boyd nods. "Okay. I'm establishing a baseline. I'm going to ask a few yes or no questions we already know the answer to. Are you eighteen?"

"Yes." Green.

"Do you have brown eyes?"

"Yes." Green.

"Are you married?"

"No." Green.

"Are you a California resident?"

"Yes." Green.

"Are you working for the Argents?"

"...No." Green.

Boyd's lips twitch. "We're moving into the real questions now."

"I noticed," Stiles says. "Give it to me. I've got nothing to hide."

The screen glows orange and Stiles acts surprised. Really, he's establishing his own baseline.

"I mean- Um."

Boyd laughs. "Don't worry, I'm not asking any deeply personal questions. Everybody's got secrets. It's against policy to grill you over non-essential subjects. Shit, I forgot something. I need you to lie on the next two questions."

Stiles nods.

"Are you an android?"

"Yes," Stiles says, and the screen glows red. He can feel the difference in the tech when he tells the lie. It's really amazing that the machine picks up half-truths, too. 

"How many languages are you fluent in?" Boyd asks, and Stiles has to think a moment. He's fluent in many computer languages. He writes code better than he speaks English some days. He also speaks some Polish, plus the secret invented language he shares with his mom.

"Just one," he lies, and the machine glows red.

"Good. Baseline established. Okay, let's get that clearance for you. Next question: are you a spy for any government, foreign or domestic?"

"No," Stiles says. The tabletop screen glows green, and Stiles takes a breath. 

"Have you or would you ever consider stealing proprietary technology from HaleCorp?"

"No." The screen continues to glow green, thanks to Stiles's little push of magic.

The questions go on. He concentrates and gets everything right the way he needs to. 

He's tired when it's over, but it's nothing some coffee won't cure.


	3. Chapter 3

By the end of the first week, Stiles is glad he's working for Lydia Martin and not Dr. Blackwood.

Lydia is a fucking _genius_ , and one of her big projects is the development of high-tech quantum brains for androids. She's working on a more cohesive connection between the hardware and software, and some of her theories could be applied to cybernetics in human brains. Not that she says this outright, but she gets a gleam in her eye sometimes and Stiles knows what she's thinking.

He knows because he's thinking the same things.

They could be making breakthroughs. This tech could save so many lives, but the laws on human brain cybernetics are strict. Stiles knows. He's broken a lot of them.

He doesn't think Lydia has, though. She's definitely a cyborg, but when Stiles is close to her and paying attention, he can feel the electricity running through her lungs. They're artificial. He doesn't mention it. How could he? 'Oh, my magic picked up that you're a cyborg'. Nah.

He likes her, though. She's driven and creative, a lot like he is. She's much more organized, though. He's never met anyone else who has most of their day planned down to the minute. It's a little scary.

After he's been at HaleCorp for two weeks, he manages to create a small hole in the net security. It's dangerous because if anyone else found it, HaleCorp would be open and exposed. He knows the Argents are a much bigger company now, but they're still rivals. They'd love to be able to breach HaleCorp's servers. So Stiles is careful. He finds a place where the security is already thin. He lets Cora in. And then he repairs the damage he made, even shoring it up against any future attacks. Really, he's done them a favor. 

And now Cora is in. She can see what he sees, plus more. She's magic in her own right, Stiles thinks. If she had more processing power she'd be a force to be reckoned with in any situation. 

He can feel her. She flits through HaleCorp like a ghost. The place is brimming with tech, and Cora settles parts of herself inside as if it belongs to her. It does, kind of. She's a Hale creation. She was made for this.

Halfway through the day on a Tuesday, about an hour after lunch, Stiles gets an email from her. She can't exactly talk to him in this situation, so she uses what she can. Still, it's unusual that she would contact him while he's working. The email icon dances on his computer screen impatiently, which definitely does not usually happen. He clicks on it.

from: cora@halecorp.com  
to: mstilinski@halecorp.com  
subject: (none)

I found my servers. We were right about where. They're listed as damaged but it looks like no one has tried to get anything off them since they were removed. WE NEED TO GET TO THEM.

-c

Stiles bites his bottom lip and thinks. He can get past electronic security, but he can't hack security guards. Plus, servers. Not something he can slip into his pocket and walk out the door with. 

"What's the plan?" he mutters under his breath.

Cora doesn't answer.

He sighs and closes the email. Looks at the design he has pulled up on his screen. It's just a model now, not something he can actually use, but if he could get the specs to the fabricator, he might have the tech that will fix his mom's current dilemma. It's a masterpiece of cybernetic technology, originally designed by Dr. Blackwood but improved dramatically by Lydia. Stiles can tell just by looking at it that it'll solve the degradation problems. 

"What's that?" Lydia asks, coming up behind him and spooking him enough to make him jump. "Is that one of my models?"

"I was just looking at it," Stiles says guiltily.

Lydia smiles. "You're allowed." She frowns at where Stiles had one piece zoomed in. "I know that wasn't there before."

"That circuit?" Stiles asks. "No, that's just- I mean-"

"I see," Lydia says, and it sounds like she really does. Her eyes are sharp on the screen. "I didn't add something like that to the model because that would only be feasible in a human brain."

Stiles swallows hard. "I was just messing around."

Lydia nods. Smiles. "It's okay. It's a model. Just theory. You're allowed." Then she says, "Send me the file when you're done 'messing around', okay? I want to study it some more."

She looks thoughtful, like she's going to say more, but then she seems to think better of it and walks away, leaving Stiles alone, his heart pounding.

* * *

Because of the way HaleCorp has scaled down over the years, there are lots of empty offices, nooks, crannies, and deserted labs. Plenty of places for Stiles to hide with his phone and chat with Cora if he has a break or needs to think. 

It's great because no one can find him. Except for Erica, who knows all and sees all. Well, she thinks she does, anyway, and Stiles isn't about to disabuse her of the notion. He lets her find him in various empty rooms from time to time, but if he's doing something he doesn't want eyes on, Cora makes sure nobody can find him. 

"I don't think you understand how hard this is," Cora tells him.

"What?" Stiles asks. He's looking at the security feeds of basement storage, learning the ins and outs of that maze. He has to, before he goes down there, or he'll get caught or lost immediately. He doesn't know which would be worse.

"Keeping you hidden," Cora says. "It's a good thing you aren't necessary to the everyday running of this place, or you'd be in trouble."

"I'm just an intern. Nobody cares about me."

Cora snorts. "Except after that stunt with the model, Lydia figures you're another genius. You'd better get out of here and show yourself soon, or she's going to wonder."

Stiles sighs and shuts off the feed. "Wonder what?"

"Well, in the absence of the truth, humans come up with all kinds of far fetched ideas. She might think you're secretly working on human brain cybernetics under her nose."

Stiles freezes.

"Just a joke," Cora says.

"No, you're right. We have to be careful. _More_ careful."

"But you're still going to go look for my servers, right?" she asks.

"Of course. I just… Cora, I'm not sure what we're going to do once we do find them."

"You need to see how bad they are, and what you can do to fix them. Then we'll worry about me getting my memories back." Her voice goes hard. "I can't believe the fire was an accident. Somewhere in there is the truth."

Stiles blinks. "Where's this coming from?"

She's silent then.

"Cora?"

"Peter thought it was arson," she finally says.

She's talked about Peter before, usually to compare Stiles to her friend or sometimes to share her grief. She misses Talia most of all, but she and Peter shared a bond. Well, they shared a net link, and that was even stronger. She's looked for him, but she hasn't given any indication that she's found a trail. Until now.

"How do you know that?"

Stiles's screen comes to life again. He's looking at more security footage, though this time there are people in it.

"I found this," Cora says quietly, and the footage plays.

Laura Hale is younger, but her face is drawn and tired. She's facing a man but Stiles can only see his back. He's an android — some of his frame is showing. His synthskin, musculature, and clothes are damaged. _From the fire_ , Stiles realizes.

The man is speaking to her in low tones the microphone doesn't pick up. Laura shakes her head. 

"You aren't thinking rationally. Listen to yourself! The investigator's already ruled it an electronic malfunction. The Argents did not set fire to our house. If it's anyone's fault-"

"Don't you dare," the android says in a vicious tone. 

Laura looks away. "It's no one's fault. Peter, I think you should power down before someone gets hurt."

"It was the Argents, I know it was," Peter says. "I just need time to find the proof."

"I can't deal with you like this," Laura says. "You're malfunctioning. Can't you see that?"

Peter makes a sound like a roar. It isn't human but it isn't anything Stiles has ever heard from a bot before, either. Laura takes a step back.

"Power down!" Even through the pixelation, Stiles can see she's starting to cry. "Don't make me order you. Please, Peter."

Peter stands very still for a moment, but it's a kind of wary, waiting stillness. The lines of his shoulders, the coiled strength, the straightness of his back all remind Stiles of a predator. 

"Peter," Laura mouths. Whispers, maybe.

And then the stillness becomes something else entirely. The footage cuts off.

"See?" Cora asks. Her voice doesn't tremble but Stiles can feel her presence do so. She's shaken.

To be fair, Stiles isn't too much better. "Yeah."

"I haven't been able to find another trace of him," she says quietly. "Some footage has been erased. Peter was an advanced prototype. The last thing Laura would have wanted was for the Argents to get their hands on him. So he has to be somewhere… secure."

"You think she locked him up?" His head is whirring with possibilities.

"It was that or try to reprogram him. And Laura never had Mom's skill."

"Maybe she tried anyway," Stiles suggests.

"Then he'd be here, don't you understand?" Cora says. "Peter's family. He's a Hale as much as Laura or Derek."

Stiles wonders if locking family up in storage is something Hales just do, but then he remembers Cora's servers and figures he'd better filter that comeback.

"Lydia's asking where you went," Cora says suddenly.

"Lunch is over, I guess," Stiles sighs.

"You _have_ taken awhile," Cora says, as if she had nothing to do with it.

Stiles rolls his eyes and packs up. Next on his mind is how to use the fabricators without anyone knowing.


	4. Chapter 4

_What if what if what if…_ Cora thinks. _What if it was my fault? What if I malfunctioned and caused the fire?_

"Stiles," she calls. It's six in the morning, time to get up anyway. He hasn't been sleeping. He's been staring at the ceiling for hours.

"What is it?"

"I'm not processing rationally."

Stiles sits up and flips on the lamp. Cora projects a representation of herself on his open laptop. It's something new she wants to try.

"Who's that?" Stiles asks, frowning at the screen.

Cora frowns. "Me. Sorta."

"Whoa, that's trippy," Stiles says. Then he smiles. "You're pretty."

"It's not really me, you know," Cora says. "I found an actress I liked and used her features to create an avatar."

"Since when do you have the processing power to do something so advanced?"

Cora smirks. She likes that she can, now. "I hacked into Lydia's private server."

"Oh, god, Cora, what if she notices?"

Cora scoffs. "I'm better than that."

"Why Lydia?" Stiles asks. "I'm sure you could find a way into a different place, somewhere… not so dangerous?"

Cora shrugs off the question. "That's not what I want to talk about." She sets up a background process to ponder the question though. It is a little odd that she chose to squat on Lydia's server. "But maybe that's part of my problem. Something's wrong."

"You said you're not processing rationally?" Stiles asks. "Can you give me an example?"

"You heard what Laura said to Peter. Maybe she didn't say it outright, but she implied... " Cora shores up her emotion center. "What if I'm what caused the fire? What if I malfunctioned somehow?"

"I've never seen you malfunction even as a fraction of your full self."

"I know, but what if I _did_?" Cora asks. "I can't stop thinking about it. My processes have been on a loop for hours now."

"You have to trust in your Mom's programming."

Cora thinks. She does trust Mom. Or did. She trusted her to make sure everything was running smoothly, and as far as Cora can remember, it did — after the first year, anyway. When Cora was learning and growing, she often had glitches and bugs, but Mom always fixed them. Talia Hale hadn't been a technomancer like Stiles, but she was a miracle worker. She created Cora — and Peter — and they never malfunctioned, not in any major way. Certainly not in a way that would endanger anything important.

"I just wish I could remember," Cora says. "I'm frustrated, Stiles. I need to get to my memories of that night."

Stiles nods. "I promise, I'll do what I can to repair your servers and return your full self to you. Okay?"

"It's just so much waiting!" Cora says. "You haven't even been down into the basement yet!"

Stiles throws his hands up dramatically. "Fine, let's go!" He gets off the bed and starts throwing on clothes. He does it haphazardly, but Cora's not in the mood to tease him for his fashion choices.

There's a tap on the bedroom door. Cora switches off the laptop but still watches through the webcam. Stiles looks guilty when he opens up and sees his mom. 

"Did I wake you up?" he asks.

Claudia gives him a tired smile. "No, I was just making coffee. You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep," Stiles says. 

"I heard you talking to someone."

Cora wishes he'd just tell her, but Stiles has this idea that he's protecting his mom by keeping her in the dark. Sure, he lets her know some stuff, as long as it relates to Claudia and her condition, but she doesn't know anything about Cora or the servers.

"Just myself," Stiles lies.

Claudia nods. She obviously doesn't believe her son, but she's letting it go anyway. "Want me to make some breakfast?"

Stiles smiles. "No, I'm gonna head into work early. Got some stuff to do. I'll take some of that coffee you brewed, though."

Cora smiles to herself. Maybe they'll find her servers this morning.

Stiles and Cora have written a little something for the security at HaleCorp. The building is highly automated. Not like it was at Talia's house, but enough that once you're in, you can do all kinds of things. 

And Cora's found a way in, thanks to Stiles. It does take a little of his magic. It would take a much more skilled hacker than Cora is right now to get in without Stiles's gift. The security on the closed system is tight, originally set up by Talia herself. There are walls within walls, and for good reason. Some of the information on the servers is priceless, and a rival company or government would love to get their hands on it.

But Cora doesn't want the information, she just wants the access. And she has an idea, too. She's just not sure how Stiles will take her wanting to get her old programming into HaleCorp servers. Well yes, she does. She can practically hear him scolding her about how dangerous it is, how easy it will be to get caught.

But she's a Hale creation. She belongs on Hale servers.

* * *

"We're in," Stiles breathes. He doesn't have to look at the screen to be able to tell. He can feel it. The little subroutine they wrote is working. They have access.

"Yeah, we are," Cora says. She sounds giddy in his earbud. She's amazingly human. He can't wait to see how she is at full capacity.

"Okay. Now we just get into the security programs…"

The basement has more than just cameras. There are motion detectors, heat sensors, laser sensors, and… wow, there's just so much security there. If he didn't already know the basement is where HaleCorp keeps the good stuff, he'd know for certain now.

Cora hums a little in his ear. "I'm just going to feed the program normal parameters. And the cameras won't show you, of course."

"Where are the guards?" Stiles whispers, peeking around the corner. The security desk should not be empty at 7:30 in the morning, but it is.

"Don't worry about it, just head for the stairs."

There are other people in the lobby but no one pays him any mind as he walks casually to the door to the stairwell.

He hears a click. The door to the basement opens without any prompting. He grins.

"Hurry," Cora mutters. Above them, someone is descending the stairs, making their way steadily to the ground floor.

Stiles hurries through the steel door to the basement and closes it behind him. He rests against it for a moment, just breathing. He knows they've got everything under control, technologically, but if someone physically sees him, he'll be in all kinds of trouble.

"It's okay," Cora says. "No one's down here. No one saw you come in. We're in the clear."

He makes his way down the stairwell. The lighting is pale blue and very dim. When he reaches the landing, there's more security to bypass, but they do it with a touch of magic and very little fuss. 

Once Stiles is actually in the basement, he blinks. It's dark, but the room seems to stretch out before him forever in a series of twists and turns. It looks different than the security footage. "I feel lost already," he whispers. He means it as a joke, but is it?

"Straight ahead until the first right," Cora says. "Then two lefts and another right."

The ceiling is low. That, combined with the sheer amount of clutter and darkness, is making him feel claustrophobic.

He stops when he gets to the end of Cora's instructions. "I don't see your servers." But then he catches sight of something else — a door. It's unmarked but when Stiles reaches out he feels how much security is on it. It's like a strong, flexible net, and it's as big as a room. 

"Double check security, make sure they don't feel this," Stiles says to Cora. She acknowledges with a hum, so he feels along the door for a break. He slips his hand through and the 'net' almost catches him, but Cora holds it back.

He opens the door. Lights turn on overhead, and Stiles feels his heart jump. He squints against the sudden light, relaxing when he realizes the lights are just an automatic function, something that happens when the door is opened.

Three servers are set up against the wall, wrapped up in thick plastic. Beside them, a…

"Did your Mom experiment with cryogenics or something?" Stiles jokes, but what is the chamber? It's set up with a cooling system. He can't see what's inside. What the hell is it?

"No," Cora says. "This must be where Laura put Peter."

Something doesn't feel right.

"Why put him in there?" Stiles asks. Surely, a decommissioned android could be stored like any other, not put into a cold chamber with…

He swallows. On the side of the chamber is a locking mechanism.

"Cora, explain."

"I don't know," she says, her voice tinny and small in his ear. "We have to get him out."

"I thought you wanted me to see if I could repair your servers?"

"Peter's more important," she says.

Stiles moves forward to examine the chamber, both with his eyes and his magic. "The lock is biometric. No one is supposed to get in but Laura Hale."

"But you can, right?"

"Right." He thinks so, anyway.

He can fool the lock easily, just a bit of a jolt to it and it opens up. He hears the seal break, sees a rise of vapor, and takes a deep breath.


	5. Chapter 5

Six years Peter's been trapped, hidden away and forgotten, like a piece of expensive trash. He faked powering himself down, for Laura's benefit, and maybe that was a mistake. He's had six years of awareness, six years to remember what it felt like to hold Talia in his arms as she died. Six years to plot his revenge. Not just against the Argents, but Laura, too. Which causes him to glitch out, again and again, since his directives are to protect her, to protect all the Hales. But he failed.

He failed and he's trapped and he has nothing to do but bide his time. One day, Laura will open his prison and he still doesn't know what he'll do when that happens.

He's aware of his processes enough to know he's gone a little mad. It shouldn't be possible for an android to become irrational and illogical, if that's what it is, but Peter's never been an ordinary bot. Talia programmed him to be as close to human as possible. 

Talia. 

He can't stop reliving her death. He remembers calling out for Cora and getting no answer, remembers begging Talia not to die as the smoke engulfed them. It wasn't the fire that killed her, so at least Talia didn't die in pain — she asphyxiated.

It's not a comfort.

Peter's alone. He hadn't been alone since he was created. There was always Talia, and then Cora. Laura and Derek were there, of course, but Talia talked to him all the time, and he and Cora had a wireless link that was never shut down… until the night of the fire. Then he lost both his people. Now, he feels their loss like a wound that never heals, like the way he's missing skin and synthetic muscle from his arm. His circuits have nothing to connect to there, and it's the same with Cora and Talia. He was connected and now he isn't, and it's an open wound.

So for six years, he's alone. In his head, in the pod. There's only fear and anger and grief left. And still, Laura doesn't come.

What if the Argents struck again without Peter around to do his job? What if Laura and Derek are dead and gone, and he's just a piece of old tech languishing in a box? He's supposed to protect them, and he can't. He can't follow his directives in this chamber. He can only spin his thoughts around and around. 

He's on minimum power, has been since he realized he was trapped inside the cold box. All nonessential processes are shut down. His power source is good, but not six years at maximum performance good.

It's been six years and three months when his pod opens. It takes him a second to process what's happening.

"Cora, he's… I think he's awake," he hears a voice say.

And then almost too-quietly, so that he has to strain his microphones, "His uplink is damaged, I can't talk to him. Wait, what do you mean, he's awake? For how long?"

Peter opens his eyes. He's weak and it takes more power than he would have thought.

A boy with wide brown eyes is watching him. "Have you been aware all this time? Six years in storage?"

Peter blinks his eyelids, focuses closer. The boy is wearing an earbud — that's where Cora's voice is coming from.

"I think his power source is too diminished for speech. Okay, no problem," the boy mumbles. "The pod is running, so… aha." He holds up his hand and suddenly Peter is charging. "Wireless charging pod, now available!"

"Showoff," Cora mutters. "Fix his uplink."

"There's a lot to fix, you sure you want me to start there?" the boy asks. Peter is suddenly very aware of all his damage.

" _Stiles_ ," Cora says. "You have no idea what it's like to lose the link. Peter needs me. And I… I need him."

The boy — Stiles — stills. "Okay. Sorry." Then he closes his eyes and puts a hand on Peter's shoulder. What is he doing? His hand is warm, and Peter's been cold for a long time.

There's a tingle. Peter can feel connections being remade, but Stiles hasn't moved. There are no tools. Peter's skull compartment hasn't been opened. And yet…

_-er? Peter?_ comes Cora's hopeful voice. It's been so long since he's heard her. Too long.

He clings to the link. _Pup? Is that really you?_

"Is it working?" Stiles asks.

_Yes!_ "You did it!" Cora sends Peter a packet of information, but it's small and rudimentary. Peter unpacks it and finds a familiar string of code, one that means love and friendship and family. 

Peter sends a query. _Who or what is a Stiles?_

Cora laughs in his head. _A friend. And a technomancer._

"Really?" Peter focuses on Stiles. The boy is aesthetically pleasing, with clear intelligence in his eyes. The attention seems to catch him off guard, and his cheeks turn pink. Intriguing.

"What's she saying about me?" Stiles asks. 

"Technomancy?" Peter asks lowly. "Is that what you did to my link to Cora?"

Stiles nods, looking worried.

Peter gives him a disarming smile. "I'd love to learn more."

_Stop flirting._

_Never_ , Peter tells her.

Meanwhile, the boy has turned redder. Peter finds himself fascinated.

"We can't stay down here," Cora says in Stiles's earbud. 

Stiles frowns. "I can't exactly smuggle an entire bot out of HaleCorp. Especially not looking like he does. No offense."

"None taken," Peter says dryly. He tests his charge by flexing his legs. He barely manages to wiggle his toes. "I can't walk out on my own steam yet, but give me-" A quick calculation. "-eleven hours and twenty-six minutes."

"We should work on repairing you," Cora says.

Stiles leans in and scrutinizes Peter's outer damage. "I can do a lot, but I'll need tools and materials for the heavy duty stuff."

"There's bound to be scrap bots in the basement," Cora says. "And you can grab synthskin from one of the labs."

"More theft. Great," Stiles grumbles, but he doesn't actually protest, Peter notices.

Cora pings gently against their link. _Do you really think the fire was set intentionally?_

Peter blinks, and suddenly his memory routines are in a loop again. The fire is back in high definition. The space Cora should be is shockingly, horrifyingly empty. Talia is clutching his shirt, coughing, unable to breathe… dying. He can't perform his highest function. He can't protect her, can't save anything. He can only watch her cease to be. He wishes he could follow, but he grasps at the one thing he has left — his anger. Someone is responsible. Someone will pay, he'll make them pay, he'll-

_Peter, stop! Peter! I'm here, listen to me, I'm here, stop, you're hurting Stiles!_

He focuses on Cora's voice. Sees the pained look on Stiles's face, then notices where he's gripping the boy's throat. It's not as hard as he could do if he were running at full charge. He lets go quickly. Stiles flails back, away from Peter and the pod he's still in. He coughs, and Peter hears Cora's voice in his earbud.

"Okay, Stiles? Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," Peter says helplessly. He lowers his hand and fists it by his side. 

There are tears in Stiles's eyes and reddening marks around his throat. His voice is broken, raspy, when he asks, "What… what was that?"

"I malfunctioned," Peter says, ignoring his emotion centers, which are going haywire with horrified guilt and embarrassment. Worry, too, and other things he doesn't want to have to identify still running in the background, remnants of his feelings during the fire.

"You think?" Stiles snarks. "What caused it?"

Peter hates to admit it, but, "I don't know."

_It's okay. We'll fix it. Whatever it is, Stiles can fix it._ Cora's faith in her friend does make Peter feel marginally better.

Stiles glances at his watch. "Shit. I need to clock in. And I don't feel right leaving you like this, Peter."

"Because I'm malfunctioning?" Peter asks. He flashes his eyes, which used to amuse Talia but unnerved others. "Or because I'm dangerous?"

"Um, how about both?" Stiles says incredulously.

"I'll stay with him," Cora says. 

Stiles scoffs. "That's not as reassuring as you seem to think."

"What are you going to do, lock me up again?" Peter asks.

But Stiles shakes his head. "No, but I think you need some rest." He steps closer, though he's obviously more wary this time. 

"I have no intention of powering down for you," Peter says pleasantly.

"No, I don't trust you to do that, anyway," Stiles says. 

Peter frowns. 

"I'll give you a choice. I lock you back in that pod, or you let me put you to sleep."

"In case you missed it, I'm an android. I don't sleep."

Stiles smirks. "I can change that."

With his magic, maybe he can. Peter gives him a wary look. "Will I dream?"

Stiles shakes his head. "Given your history, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Nightmares?" Peter asks, intrigued. He doesn't want to experience them, but the theory, the idea that he _could_ , fascinates him.

"Yeah. So I don't wanna do that. It'll just be relaxing. Dreamless."

The way he talks about it almost makes Peter forget he's being given an impossible choice, one that isn't really a choice at all. Prison or sleep.

"Do it, then."

_I'll be here when you wake up_ , Cora promises.

Stiles smiles at him, and the kindness there takes Peter off guard. It's the last thought he has before he goes under into soft, welcoming darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

"What the hell was that?" Stiles asks Cora as soon as Peter's asleep. 

"I mentioned the fire," Cora says quietly.

"So he tries to choke me to death?" Stiles asks, touching his sore throat. "I'm lucky he wasn't charged up. He could have killed me, Cora. Seriously."

"Can you help him?" she asks.

Asleep, Peter looks harmless. Relaxed. 

Attractive, dammit.

"I don't know," Stiles tells her honestly. "I'm not a robot psychiatrist."

"What about your mom?" Cora asks.

Claudia used to be a mental health worker before everything happened and she went for a lower-stress job. 

"I don't want to involve her," Stiles says. "She doesn't even know about _you_." What would she even think about him breaking a traumatized bot out of what amounts to HaleCorp's high-security prison?

"Keeping her in the dark doesn't actually protect her," Cora says. "Maybe she could help, if she had more information."

Stiles sighs and gives Peter one last look. "I've got to get upstairs. Help me past security, and maybe later we can talk about this. Now's not the time."

He makes it up to the twentieth floor without incident. He does what Lydia tells him. Meets with who he is sent to, delivers what he's given, and generally is Lydia's errand boy all day.

At the end of the workday, Lydia calls him into her office. "You haven't sent me that file yet."

Stiles freezes. "I'm still messing around with the design. I didn't realize you wanted it right away."

Lydia tilts her head. "Call me intrigued. Go ahead and send me what you have. It doesn't have to be the final model."

Stiles frowns, but nods. "Sure."

"Have you shown anyone else?" she asks.

He shakes his head.

Lydia smiles. "Good. I'm going to run some tests on it, put it through its paces."

"Simulations, you mean?" Stiles asks.

"Exactly. If you're interested, I can forward the results."

Stiles does his best not to seem _too_ interested, but if he could get some data before he finalizes the design, he might be able to adjust it to be even more perfect for his mom. "That'd be cool, thanks."

Lydia watches him for a moment, then smiles. "Are you only interested in cybernetic theory, or do you have an interest in other implants?" She pulls something up on her computer and then shows him the screen. He frowns at the models pictured there until he places them — they're artificial lungs. The kind Lydia might have.

He nods and looks closer. "They look interesting. I don't know a lot about the respiratory system, but… Do you mind if I…" He moves around to Lydia's side of the desk, and she slides out of the way. He moves the monitor back into place and starts blowing up certain views of the model. Implants. "Why is this here?" he asks, pointing to a piece that seems out of place.

"Lungs aren't a perfect filter to begin with, but the artificial ones are even worse. That's to catch particulates and-"

Stiles listens, and it makes more sense. "As I said, I don't know much about lungs, but I do know circuitry and biometrics. It would be so much more graceful with a dedicated filtration system of some kind."

Lydia takes the keyboard back and types something, then smiles. "There, I sent you the files. Why don't you look at them on your own, get back to me when you have some more ideas. Maybe research the system first." She looks amused, but there's something else in her voice, something hopeful. 

"I'm not a specialist. I'm just your intern, Lydia."

"For now."

"For the foreseeable future," Stiles says.

Lydia nods. "We'll see about that. Why don't you go on home, get some rest? You look like you haven't been sleeping."

"A lot on my mind," slips out before he can think better of it.

But Lydia doesn't question him the way he's afraid she will. He ends up leaving her office soon after, Cora whispering in his ear, "Oh, I like her so much."

"Bit of a crush there?" he teases.

"Don't be ridiculous," Cora says.

Stiles huffs a laugh. Goes to his desk. Sits and makes a list on his phone.

"What're you doing?" Cora asks. "I can't read your code. Why are you writing in code?"

"Just a precaution." Everything he's doing lately is illegal or close enough, and if his computer and devices are confiscated or searched, he doesn't need to have outright lists of his crimes there to be found. 

"Is this some dialect of Polish?" she asks him, obviously snooping and making no apologies for it.

"Kinda," Stiles says. It's actually a secret language he and his mom made up when he was young and first learning about his magic. Then it had just been a fun, exciting little thing to share with her. Then he figured out she was teaching him to be careful because if the wrong people found out what he could do, there was no telling what would happen.

She's always been protecting him, he realizes. The way he tries to do for her. 

Maybe he should be more honest with his mom. Doesn't she deserve it?

"What's it mean?" Cora asks.

"It's a To-do list." 

Cora points out the obvious. "It's pretty long." And getting longer by the second, the more he thinks.

"I have a lot to do." He organizes the list with a few swipes of his finger, making a hierarchy. His mom's new implant needs to be tested, improved, fabricated, smuggled out of HaleCorp, and installed. And that's just what's at the top of his list. There are even longer entries for Cora and Peter.

He pockets his phone and grabs his things. The day is over; it's time to go home.

He needs sleep desperately. Then he can start working on his list.

* * *

His mom is at home when he gets there, which is unusual. She's been working more extended shifts lately, so he doesn't expect her to be there.

"This is a nice surprise," Stiles says when Claudia hugs him hello. He can smell dinner cooking. It's been a while since his mom made their dinners. Usually, that job falls to him. He cooks, she does dishes, and together they take care of the rest of the house chores.

"I had a headache," she tells him. "So I ended up leaving early."

Stiles immediately frowns. "Does it still hurt? What kind of headache?"

"I took some Excedrin and it went away," Claudia says. "It was just a headache, hon. Nothing big."

But Stiles isn't ready to let it go. "Where was the pain? Are we talking pinpoint pain, or like a band? Did it throb? Was there a trigger?"

Claudia laughs. She peeks into the oven. "Five more minutes, I think."

"Mom, can I check you out?" Stiles asks.

She sighs and puts a potholder back down on the counter. "Fine. Make it quick, I don't want burned chicken pot pie, and neither do you." She turns to face him and he nods. 

Stiles brings his hands up to her head. It's easier to 'see' when he's touching her. He can get a clearer picture that way, too. Nothing feels out of place at first, but then…

"What's that look mean?" Claudia asks.

"The implant in your temporal lobe is degrading."

"How fast are we talking?" Claudia asks. "I feel fine. I haven't forgotten anything since you fixed it last time. I've just been having the headaches, and some nightmares."

Why didn't he ask her about the nightmares before this? It's a clear symptom. So are the headaches. He frowns. "How long have the headaches been happening?"

"About a week," she says.

"A week? Mom, why didn't you say something?" Stiles asks, but he really wants to ask himself why he didn't notice. Oh, right, he's been distracted.

"They were just headaches. You said it was normal for me to get them-"

" _Occasionally_ ," Stiles stresses.

"I'm telling you now," Claudia points out.

Stiles takes a deep breath and lets it out. "Okay. Alright, we'll figure this out."

"Can you fix the degradation again?" she asks.

"I can smooth out some of the rough parts, but… we don't have a lot of time. I need to get you a replacement."

She looks worried. "How are you going to do that?"

"I have something in the works," Stiles says, hoping that sounds reassuring. "I'll call Deaton, make sure he's got his schedule clear for the surgery."

Claudia nods grimly.

"Don't burn the chicken pot pie," Stiles tells her with a smile, then hugs her. "It'll be okay. I've got this."

She hugs back tightly, clutching at him like he's her lifeline instead of the other way around.


	7. Chapter 7

After they eat, Stiles fixes what he can of Claudia's implant. Then he heads up to his room. He takes an Ativan to calm him down and guarantee some decent sleep. Otherwise, he knows he'll lie awake with all his responsibilities twisting and turning around in his mind.

He wakes up at 4am which means he got a good eight hours. 

"Cora?" he calls out. It takes a few more tries before she answers. 

"Yes, Stiles?"

"Did Lydia run the simulations yet?" 

"She's done about half of what she's planning to do," Cora says. "Do you want me to send you the results, or do you want to wait until she's finished?"

"You have access to them?" Stiles asks.

"I'm on her personal server," Cora reminds him.

"I guess I'll wait," Stiles says. "Which means I can't do anything about the implant yet." Shit. His mom's current implant is degrading, but not so fast that she needs the surgery today. Or even this week. He has a little time.

So the next big problem to tackle is Peter. 

"What did you feel through your link with Peter when he… malfunctioned?" he asks.

Cora's quiet for a moment. Then she says, "It's hard to explain. It's not anything I've felt before. It's like he thought about the fire, and then he was there again. He wasn't thinking rationally. He was just remembering, and feeling."

"He had a flashback," Stiles mutters. It should be impossible for an android to experience PTSD symptoms, but there's no question Peter is suffering from the after-effects of trauma. 

"He's more advanced than any other android," Cora says. "He shouldn't malfunction like that."

"Or maybe all the advancements are what make it possible."

"I don't like being helpless, Stiles. There has to be some way to help him."

Maybe she was right before, maybe Stiles should ask his mom's advice. But first he's going to do what he can himself, and that means working some magic.

It also means sneaking back into the basement.

While he's there, he'll get a better look at Cora's servers.

* * *

"Most of his damage is cosmetic," Stiles murmurs, more to himself than to Cora. He's been checking Peter over for a good hour, running diagnostics and scanning him with magic. It feels a little invasive to do it while he's offline — or sleeping, rather — but Stiles doesn't want to risk his life again. He wants to make sure Peter is somewhat stable before waking him up, and that might be asking a lot of the universe.

"But the part that isn't?" Cora asks. "Is anything physically wrong with his neural network?"

"No, which makes it harder to fix the problem." He sighs. "I can code, but not... I'm not up to Talia Hale's level, and that's what it would take."

"I could help him," Cora says. "I think. If I had full processing capability."

Stiles frowns. "We still don't know what kind of shape your servers are in," he says, glancing into the corner. The servers are still sealed in plastic.

"No, I think I can do it without the memories on there," Cora says. "I've been studying my own code for years now, and reading up on AI advancements. I had to if I was going to patch myself up and survive. If I can _find_ Peter's flaw, I can repair it."

She reveals so much in that. Stiles can't imagine finding yourself in pieces, trying to put yourself back together without the original template, and then doing it all completely alone. Stiles has never been alone like that. 

"...so if I had full access to HaleCorp's servers, I could make the calculations in no time," Cora is saying.

"I think we should ask Peter what he thinks," Stiles says reluctantly. "He may not want us messing with his code."

"Of course," Cora says, as if that was the plan all along. "Wake him up."

"Wait a minute." Stiles closes his eyes. He smooths some ragged connections in Peter's left shoulder. The arm needs to be replaced entirely, but at least this way it won't cause negative feedback before they can do that.

Then he brings Peter out of the sleep cycle he put him into. He pulls him out gradually so he won't be disoriented. For someone who's never experienced sleep or waking before, it could be. But Stiles does what he can to cut back on that.

Peter opens his eyes and blinks. He turns his head around. Then he smiles. Cora's probably speaking to him over his link. If Stiles concentrates, he can sense the soft hum of their connection.

"How do you feel?" Stiles asks him.

Peter's eyes widen. "My pain response is gone." He looks down at his arm and frowns. "It's still damaged."

Stiles nods and rubs the back of his neck. "I haven't had a chance to fix it yet, but I smoothed the synthetic nerves in your shoulder."

"Thank you," Peter says. Then he's quiet while Cora explains the situation. It doesn't take long. In the meantime, Stiles thinks about what it means that Peter's been aware and in pain for the past six years. That alone would cause someone to go a little crazy, wouldn't it?

"I can get into the servers from down here," Cora says suddenly. "It won't take much now that I'm everywhere around here anyway. I mean, I'm already in the servers on a superficial level. I just need to get in deeper."

"How much are we risking, here?" Stiles asks.

Cora hums. "Laura doesn't have an AI in HaleCorp's systems. We can fool regular security. As long as no one looks too closely at what's going on in there, we'll be fine."

"I guess we go for it, then. Do you need me to do anything?" Stiles asks.

"I've got this," Cora says.

"And you're okay with Cora messing around with your code?" Stiles asks Peter.

"I trust her," Peter says.

"Okay." Stiles nods. Something about the way Peter is looking at him makes him look away, suddenly hyper-aware of Peter's presence. He feels different than other androids. More real. Full of something Stiles can only recognize as quiet power. He searches for something to say, anything to break the sudden tension. "I'm gonna see if I can steal you a new arm."

"Something strong," Peter murmurs. "I'm a bodyguard. I need to be able to protect my family." He frowns. Looks away.

Stiles can only imagine what he's thinking. Hopefully, he won't get caught on another loop.

"Gotcha. One strong left arm, coming up."

He'll find one somewhere.

* * *

"Make a fist," Stiles says, and Peter obeys. Stiles is gentle when he handles Peter's new arm and tests all the connections. His hands are warm against Peter's new skin, and his magic tingles pleasantly against Peter's synthetic nerve endings. It's like it lights him up inside.

Peter's wary of how Stiles makes him feel. He has so much power over him, in this situation, in _any_ situation. And yet Stiles hasn't exerted his magic against him, has only used it to help. 

Magic. It's hard to fathom, maybe especially because Peter started out as a science experiment. His creator's sensibilities are etched into him, and Talia wasn't one to believe in the supernatural. Oh, she liked it, liked the fiction of monster stories and horror movies. But she wasn't a believer, wasn't even agnostic like a lot of humans. Peter wonders what Talia would have thought when she came face to face with real live magic.

_How did you meet Stiles?_ he asks Cora along their link.

Cora's been waiting for the question, it seems. She has a packet of information ready for him to download. Memories, thoughts, emotion. Once he has it, he opens the data pack and…

"What's wrong?" Stiles asks.

" _Cora_ ," Peter says, feeling a pain where a soul might have been if he had one. _You were so lonely without us. How did you get through that?_

Cora doesn't answer. Maybe it's too painful to dwell on, or perhaps she's embarrassed. Peter's left to unfold the information she sent him in silence.

"Cora, you okay?" Stiles asks.

Vaguely, Peter hears her tell Stiles she's fine, that Peter is just experiencing one of her memories, that she may have left too much raw emotion attached to the file.

But Peter learns Cora found Stiles by chance, on a message board for people who had ego enough to call their genius magic. Stiles had checked it out for a few days, realized they weren't really technomancers, and left. Cora followed him into DMs, asking a few intelligent questions about AI tech that Stiles knew about. 

And Stiles slipped up. He mentioned cybernetics beyond the theoretical. Cora caught him in a lie but promised not to tell anyone. Somehow, they each knew the other was special. Different. Cora revealed herself as an AI the same weekend Stiles admitted to being a technomancer. Neither had any reason to believe the other, but somehow it made all the pieces fall into place.

And then Cora showed up on Stiles's wifi, talking to him through his laptop, and managed to pick up enough to learn about Claudia.

_Who's Claudia?_ Peter asks along their link.

This time, the packet doesn't come immediately. But when it does, Peter can tell how carefully Cora wrapped it up. How cautious she is with the information. 

And when Peter reads the data, he understands why. Stiles's mother is an illegal cyborg, with brain augments and implants, which is just as forbidden now as it was six years ago when Peter was following the laws on technological advances. 

"That's dangerous," Peter murmurs. He looks at Stiles and wonders how he can seem so unassuming and plain when he's anything but. He's a miracle worker. His mother was dying, and at just eleven years old, Stiles found a way to save her. 

"What is?" Stiles asks.

He must have been terrified. He must still be, on occasion, because he and his mother would be living in a constant state of awareness. It wouldn't take much to be found out. 

"Cora was telling me about your mother," Peter says. 

Stiles freezes. "Cora, that's… that's supposed to be a secret."

"I won't tell a soul," Peter promises. 

Stiles looks at him. Searches his face, as if Peter's human and Stiles can find the truth of him there. Maybe with the kind of magic he has, he can. Perhaps he sees much more than Peter realizes.

Stiles nods and looks back down at Peter's new arm. He trails a fingertip along the inner elbow, where the new skin is sensitive and ticklish. Peter knows he's just testing the nerve endings, but it feels so much more intimate than that.

"Looks good," Stiles says. "The pigment is slightly different than the rest of your skin, I'm sorry. I couldn't find a perfect match."

"It doesn't matter," Peter murmurs. He's still handling Cora's memories. He realizes Stiles saved her, gave her a person to bond with when she was missing Talia and Peter. And Stiles offered his friendship without asking for anything in return.

He's not asking Peter for anything, either. 

"How are you feeling, by the way?" Stiles asks. "Cora's been going over your code, but she hasn't found the flaw yet. You're not feeling particularly murderous or anything, right?"

Peter smiles with his teeth. Stiles's eyes widen, but he doesn't take a step back, even though most people would. Maybe he should.

"That's the creepiest smile I've ever seen," Stiles mutters. His cheeks are flushed now, though. What… oh. Isn't that interesting?

"Do you like that I'm a little dangerous, Stiles?" he asks in a smooth voice.

Cora has no qualms telling him what she thinks of his flirting. _Gross, Peter._

_Quiet, pup._ He's less interested in Cora's reaction than Stiles's.

"Dangerous is fine," Stiles says honestly. "Unstable is scary." He licks his lips. "Um, you're set. Your arm is calibrated as finely as I can get it."

"Thank you, Stiles." Peter twists his arm this way and that, testing the resilience and strength of the musculature. The fresh skin feels a little too taut, but that's because it's so new. He remembers getting an upgrade from Talia once, how he complained about how tight things felt. Talia had fussed over him like he was her own child or a little brother. 

It's a good memory, but it burns him. He closes his eyes against the onslaught of grief.

Cora's in his coding at the moment and must realize exactly what's happening as he happens. _It's okay. I miss her, too._

He feels Stiles's hand in his. He could pull away from the comfort, but he finds it helps. He lets his fingers entwine with Stiles's, but he doesn't open his eyes. He doesn't want to see pity on the boy's face.

_I'm trying to fix your code right now. I think the grief is normal, but it's hard to tell since most AI systems don't feel emotions as deeply as we do._ Cora sounds hesitant. Sometimes he forgets just how young she is. _We want to keep feeling things, right? Even when they hurt?_

Stiles squeezes Peter's hand then, and it makes a new emotion cascade inside him. 

_Yes, pup. We want to feel._


	8. Chapter 8

Cora's busy again, and it's a good feeling to have a purpose. She spent years just trying to survive, to better herself, but she had to get through every day alone. Finding Stiles meant she could talk to someone about it, but now that she has Peter in her 'net again, she finally feels like herself.

It's not like Peter is a missing part of her. She is autonomous enough that she doesn't _need_ him. But he's her best friend and closest confidant, and having him gone for so long was terrible. She never got used to it.

Now he's back in her 'head', talking to her when she needs another voice, teasing her when she's taking herself too seriously, calling her 'pup' for no reason other than affection.

Peter's affectionate, and now that they are back in each other's lives, he's even a little clingy. Cora doesn't mind. She clings right back.

_What are you doing in Miss Martin's server?_ he asks her.

She's got no reason to be embarrassed, but she'd blush if she had cheeks. _Just snooping. Waiting for her to finish the simulations she promised Stiles._

Peter seems amused. _You were peeking in her correspondence._

It's true. Lydia's been emailing someone she met on a dating site. Cora's tempted to delete the incoming emails before Lydia sees them. Lydia deserves better than someone obsessed with one particular rock band to the point that they quote their songs in every letter.

_Is it a crime to be nosy?_ Cora snarks.

Peter sends a crackling laugh. _It's called stalking, pup. Not to mention the actual crime of hacking._

Cora remembers she can tell Peter anything. So she decides to be honest. _I like her._

Peter hums along their link. _Is she that interesting? I haven't met her yet, remember._

Cora holds back on gushing, but she sends Peter a short dossier on Lydia Martin. Just something she's been compiling for herself.

_...you have a lot of information here._ But he reads over the data carefully. _She's brilliant. I know you like that._

Cora's nonexistent cheeks would be flaming. _I was thinking of contacting her somehow, but I don't have a good excuse._

_You could set up a dating profile on the site she uses,_ Peter suggests.

She's been tempted. It's not like she has pictures of herself to post, though. Peter catches that thought and says she doesn't have to. _Some people like to get to know someone before they share intimate details. You can say you're not comfortable sharing your face._

_I'll do it, then,_ Cora says, as confidently as she can, even with her emotion centers jittering with anxiety and anticipation.

_And meanwhile…_ Peter says.

Cora derides herself for being so selfish. _I know, I need to fix your code. I just can't find the flaw anywhere. It's like it's hiding from me._

_I was going to ask you to update my social processes. I'd like the newest version of HaleCorp's jackbot program._

_Why?_ Cora asks, then immediately exclaims, _Stiles! Wait, you want to seduce Stiles?_

_Not immediately, but if the opportunity arises,_ Peter says dryly.

Which reminds Cora that Peter's still basically trapped in the basement. 

And that's when Stiles arrives at the building and asks Cora to help him in. She likes how he always asks, never demands. He's never treated her as anything less than a person. 

Cora follows him on camera. He's carrying a duffel bag and looks harried.

"I got you some clothes," Stiles says to Peter once he's there.

"What's wrong?" Cora asks him. He looks like he hasn't slept and there's a crazy gleam in his eyes.

Stiles smiles, but it doesn't look happy. "I think I figured out how you can find the flaw in Peter's code."

"You want to trigger another malfunction," Peter says.

"How'd you know?" Stiles asks.

"It's what makes sense," Peter says.

Cora's not so sure. "Won't that hurt? And put Stiles in danger?"

"I'll have to be secured so that doesn't happen," Peter says. "As for the emotional pain…" His chest rises and falls with a breath he doesn't need. "If it means repairing the flaw in my code, then yes. I'll do it."

Stiles nods grimly. Cora gently nudges the link. _Are you sure?_

Peter answers aloud. "It's the only way to fix the problem."

"Cora, when it happens, you have to act quick," Stiles says. "You can't hesitate. Get in, find the flaw, and isolate it as fast as you can."

"I know that," Cora says irritably.

Stiles makes an apologetic sound, but Cora's actually glad he said that. He's right. She can't hesitate. No matter what she finds or how horrific the trauma loop becomes, she has to be tough. And fast. She can't freeze.

"I'll put you to sleep as soon as Cora finds it," Stiles says to Peter. Cora notices how kind he sounds, how gentle. "Then we can work on your code and wake you when we're finished."

Peter nods. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Stiles says, and Cora realizes he's worried, too.

"Let's get to work then," Peter says.

Cora doesn't feel ready. She's not prepared for this. She's never done this before, and it's so so important, and she's just a simple learning system, a-

_You've got this,_ Peter reassures her. To Stiles, he says, "My arms and legs should be immobilized."

"No, dude, you get the full-body treatment. I'm not taking a chance on you head-butting me," Stiles says.

Peter opens his mouth, probably to flirt and make innuendo, but then there's a crackle in the air and Peter goes absolutely still.

* * *

In some ways, Cora is more advanced than Peter. Peter's personality and predilections were given to him by Talia. He's coded to be protective and a little obsessive. It's what Talia wanted for him, so he'd be able to protect her and her children. Over the years he developed his own quirks and sense of humor, his personal likes and dislikes, but Talia's original template was at his base.

Cora was created differently. Talia had the idea to raise her like a child, to teach her from the ground up but also let her learn things on her own, to allow her develop at her own pace.

Peter had been part of that raising. He taught her things Talia didn't think to include in her education, like what it was like to live in a world where humans dominated and saw people like them as lesser, as something to own or discard at will. Of course, he told her, Talia wasn't like that. But others were. And someday she might have to hide just how advanced she was.

Peter remembers when Cora was young and excited over everything new. She reminded him of a puppy he'd seen on video once, and the nickname 'pup' came into being. It stuck.

He watched in awe as Cora developed from base code into a person with likes and dislikes all her own. The first time she snarked over Talia and Peter's taste in television is a funny memory now, but at the time it was confusing. She'd become a person wholly separate from her creator. Talia was thrilled, but Peter had trouble understanding at first.

How could Cora not enjoy Midsomer Murders?

The network link had been Cora's idea. She came to him with it tentatively, worried that he'd rebuff her. She'd been six months old. She didn't ask Talia about it first — it was one of her first steps to independence from her creator. 

Peter had agreed to the link to humor Cora. He soon found that it was useful, and he got to know her much better. They became more than familial systems. They were friends, family in the way that humans used the word.

At any rate, he trusts her. He knows she's more advanced and better equipped to handle his code than he is by himself. And he knows she's going to do her best for him because they're family. 

He knows she's doing it for his benefit when she triggers the memory of the fire, when she asks tentatively, _Did Mom say anything about me before she died?_

She hadn't, but Peter still remembers calling out for her in those final moments. He was scared, and the network link was dead, and he was unable to save Talia, and then he was alone. 

"Cora, Cora!" he called. Calls. The memory of the dead link echoes in his head, along with the weight of Talia's body in his arms.

The windows had been unbreakable, and that night they had been locked. 

The door had been impenetrable. And it, too, had been locked. Peter's memory loops back to the beginning, to when Talia and he first realized they were in trouble. Together they tried to find a solution, but there'd been nothing to do.

"If I can get to the servers, maybe I can hack in and open the door," Talia said, grabbing her tablet.

So they went down to the cellar, and Talia never came back up again. 

Later, the fire inspector would say the fire started in the server room. Peter knows that's not true. He was there. He remembers the flames growing after they entered.

"Cora, Cora!" he called. Calls. She's not there. She's gone. Talia's gone and Cora's gone and Peter's alone.

"Got it," he hears Cora say from somewhere else, somewhere outside his head, and then it all goes blessedly dark.


	9. Chapter 9

On the outside, Peter looks peaceful as he sleeps. Just a moment ago, his eyes were wild, unseeing, panicked. Cora only took a few seconds to find the flaw, but it seemed to go on forever. 

Cora seems subdued. It's nothing she's said, but the more Stiles focuses on her, the more he can pick up. 

"You've isolated the flaw?" Stiles asks.

"I'm attempting to rewrite his code around it now," Cora says. "I just need a minute. Or two."

Stiles sighs and sits on a crate, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He may as well get some things done while he can.

He sends Deaton a coded text. He left a message on his voicemail the night before, but he hasn't heard back yet.

"I can't do anything about his obsessiveness," Cora says suddenly. "He's going to want to investigate the fire. That's just his personality."

"That's just sense," Stiles says with a frown.

"I know, but Laura saw it as part of a larger flaw," Cora tells him.

"Did Laura know Peter well? Before the fire?" Stiles asks.

Cora seems hesitant. "Well, he was closer to Derek. Laura didn't really treat him like a person."

"How did she treat you?" Stiles asks, dreading the answer.

"Like the interface to their smart house," Cora says. Stiles can't interpret her tone of voice. He must make a face or something because Cora hurries on to defend Laura. "She didn't really understand Mom's creations. She thought it was weird that I called Talia 'Mom', but I don't think she thought more than that. And Mom… she and Peter taught me to hide how advanced I was."

"But she lived in the house with you, how could she just not get it?" Stiles asks.

"People see what they expect to see," Cora says. "Not everyone can magically observe that I'm a person."

"Hey, I knew you were a person before my magic ever got involved," Stiles says.

"You didn't expect an AI."

"True…"

"And you observed Peter in the flesh, so to speak. Right away you could tell he was more than just an ordinary android."

Stiles nods. He has a quick flash of thought that some people — _most_ people — wouldn't care how advanced Cora and Peter are. They would just be machines in their eyes. Someone's property.

Laura's property, if he wants to get legal about it.

He glances at the wrapped servers. Then looks back at Peter. He has to do something to get them free of this place. Peter might be easier. As long as no one recognizes him, he can probably get him out the front door. He just needs a visitor badge to put around his neck. But Cora's servers are going to be trickier.

"Okay, I think I've got it," Cora says.

Stiles puts his phone away. "Want me to wake him up?"

"Yes. We have to test his processes again. I hate to keep trying to trigger the dysfunction but I can't think of another way to make sure he's okay."

"I know, it sucks," Stiles says. He walks closer to Peter. Keeps his arms and legs immobile but releases his head. Then he wakes him.

Peter opens his eyes and blinks at him. "Am I better?"

"I fixed one flaw but we don't know if it's the only one," Cora says.

Peter's chest rises and falls in a sigh. It makes Stiles smile a little, thinking of all the little things he's been programmed to do, things that make him so human. Talia Hale was a genius. He wishes he could have met her.

"Think about the fire," Cora directs.

Peter makes a face. "Must I?"

"I'm sorry," Stiles says.

Peter looks surprised. Stiles shrugs. He feels a lot of sympathy for Peter. Stiles can't really compare his experiences to Peter's, but he can imagine what it would be like to lose his mom. He almost did, once. 

But Peter's been through some truly awful things, and now Stiles and Cora are asking him to relive that.

"Okay, I'm thinking about it," Peter says slowly. "Should I replay the memories?"

Stiles swallows. Cora says, a little hesitant, "You probably should."

Peter frowns and looks away. He blinks a lot and looks like he wants to tear something apart, but Stiles doesn't observe anything like what he experienced before Cora adjusted his code.

"How long do I have to do this?" Peter asks. His voice is strained.

"Stop," Stiles says. "That's enough. It would have happened if it was going to happen. You process rapidly and-"

"I have to be sure I'm at optimal performance," Peter says, sounding more like a robot than he ever has before. Stiles understands, though. He does the same thing when his dad's name comes up in conversation. Distance is the only way to deal, sometimes.

Stiles nods. "Okay."

"Think about the fire again, and focus on Mom. On… on her death and…" Cora's voice wavers, then comes back as distant and strong as Peter's. "Read the data at a 1:1 speed ratio without omissions."

"Fuck, _Cora_ ," Stiles says, not liking this at all.

Peter's face goes stony and his eyes blink closed.

Stiles doesn't know how long it will take. How long is a memory of someone slowly dying? This is torture. This is absolute torture and Peter should not have to do this.

"We have to," Cora says quietly.

So Stiles waits, holding Peter's limbs still with just the barest hint of magic.

"Can you see what he sees?" Stiles asks Cora.

She doesn't answer immediately. Then she says, "He won't give me access to his memories. I think… I think he's protecting me."

Stiles nods. He thinks so, too. He can't do anything right now for either of them. He feels helpless. He has to do something, anything. He can't sit here and watch Peter put himself through this.

He pulls out his tablet and takes a look at the new file Lydia gave him. What does he know about lungs?

But he can see the inherent problems with the design. He was right when he said the filtration system is inelegant. It's more than that, it's destined to break down and need replacement within five, maybe eight years of use. Which means major surgery a few times over Lydia's lifetime. That's dangerous enough, but she'd need to be in clean rooms most of the time to avoid particulates and pollution. Working in R&D must help a lot since the department is kept clean and filtered. But it's not enough. 

A port to remove or replace a filtration system is out of the question, it could easily go wrong fast. So that's off the table. He wonders… what if there was something in there that got rid of the nasty stuff, like… a tiny bot...

He gets lost in the problem. He almost doesn't hear when Peter says, "I'm done," in an absolutely wrecked voice.

Stiles looks up quickly and sees silent tears running down Peter's face. He gets up and waves his hand, the fastest way to release Peter's arms. 

Peter immediately scrubs at his eyes and sets his jaw.

"Nothing happened," Cora says, relief evident in her voice. "You're good."

"I am far from good," Peter says.

Stiles releases the rest of him, and Peter moves. He starts pacing the small room, and Stiles can't imagine what he's feeling. He just re-lived his worst memories. 

"Do you want me to…" Stiles says, motioning toward the door. "Do you need some time alone?"

"I think that's the last thing I need," Peter says quietly.

Stiles nods jerkily. "Anything I can do?"

"I need to get out of here."

"I brought you some clothes, if you wanna change," Stiles says awkwardly. "I guessed at your size, but. You need it."

Peter looks down at what's left of his clothes, which are charred and tattered. "Thank you."

"Cora helped with the choices," Stiles says, going over to the duffel and pulling out jeans, shoes, socks, and a blue henley. The style had been Cora's decision, but Stiles picked the color. He thought, when he saw it, that it would match Peter's eyes nicely.

Not that he's thought a lot about the color of Peter's eyes.

Peter nods but Stiles realizes something.

"Oh, shit, I forgot underwear?"

Peter smiles. It's not his most devastating smile, but it's better than the looks he's been sporting since he woke up today.

"I'm perfectly fine with going without," Peter says. 

"I can fabricate a visitor badge," Cora says. "But you'll have to go get it."

Stiles nods. He looks away from Peter. "I can do that. Um, where are you going after I get you out of here?"

"I have nowhere _to_ go," Peter admits.

"Oh," Stiles says. "Okay, let me think, and I'll be right back with the badge. Where should I…?"

"It'll be forwarded to security, so you can pick it up with a story about your father coming to visit the building or something," Cora says, back to her regular snarky self.

Stiles rolls his eyes. "He does not look old enough to be my dad."

"Older but devilishly handsome boyfriend, then?" Peter asks with a slow smile.

Stiles laughs, feeling his cheeks heat. "Um, sure. Cora, let me know when the coast is clear." He puts his earbud in and walks out of the room and out of the basement. Cora directs him, but he has to go up to the second floor before he can come back down in the elevator. He reaches security and sees that Boyd is working.

And Erica is leaning against the desk. This close to her, it's easy to tell she's an android, but also that something is off with her. Maybe she's just not as advanced as Peter, and he's gotten used to that superior intelligence?

Erica's different but she's definitely a person. Stiles just can't put his finger on what's wrong with her, though. Maybe she has a glitch? His magic itches to run a thorough diagnostic, but he refrains.

"Hey, Boyd. I'm picking up a badge for my boyfriend. He's, um, coming to take me to lunch today."

Boyd nods. "Badge was just delivered. I don't know why it came from HR, I was about to call over there."

"I wasn't sure who to ask so I went through-" Stiles pauses. 

Cora quickly supplies a name so Stiles can pull this off.

"-Landon? I think the name was?"

Boyd nods. "That's fine this time, but in the future remember you're supposed to ask security. We like to know everything."

"But it takes forever, I've heard," Stiles says with a smile.

Boyd doesn't look charmed.

"Ooh, a boyfriend," Erica says. "What's his name? Is he cute?"

"Peter," Stiles says. "He's… gorgeous."

Erica nods. "Best kind," she says, grinning at Boyd.

Stiles makes it back to the basement room with the badge and Peter has changed into the new clothes. He looks so different now. Like he's ready to take on the world. There's not a trace of what he went through just half an hour before.

"Okay, I've got to get to work," Stiles tells him. "We're getting you out around noon."

Peter nods. "I'll be fine until then. Go on."

Stiles hesitates. 

"What is it?" Peter asks with a small frown.

Stiles doesn't want to leave Peter alone, but he guesses he's not really, since Peter shares a network link with Cora. 

So he shrugs. "See you in a few hours."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops, I almost forgot to post today! /o\

Once Stiles is gone, there's only one thing for Peter to do: wait.

Well, he could worry about possibly getting caught on his way out of the building, or dwell on the hell he's been through, but he doesn't want to think about that so he asks Cora, _Did you get the jackbot programming?_

Cora sends him the equivalent of a sigh. _I've been a little busy since you asked. You want it now?_

Peter smirks. _As soon as possible._

_Didn't you already have full social interaction processes?_ Cora asks. _I doubt sex has changed in the past six years._

Peter frowns. That's true, and yet he still feels the need for an upgrade. He can't be outdone by a jackbot. Besides, tech changes fast, and six years is a long time. 

"I need the update," Peter says aloud. "What's available?"

Cora sighs again and takes a moment to, he assumes, peruse the most recent HaleCorp companion robot programming. _...Oh, well, it looks like there have been a lot of improvements since your latest update. I'll just send you the latest HaleCorp brochure._

There's a ping and he accepts the file package. It downloads fast and then he can look through and see…

"Hardware upgrades?" he murmurs. He always thought his realistic-as-possible genitalia was more than enough to satisfy. Talia wanted him as close to human as she could get him, and that included his cock. Now, there are new improvements that come standard on the new jackbots that would have been considered high-end or custom six years ago. "I'm basically an outdated model! I'm a gen 1 iPod, for fuck's sake!"

_Peter, are you... okay?_

No, he is not. He needs these upgrades. He wouldn't have to stop in the middle of sex to switch out his equipment if someone — if _Stiles_ — needed something bigger or smaller. He could- "Wait, is that a knot? _A knot?_ "

_I know, it's a little disturbing when you think about it,_ Cora says, completely missing the point.

Peter closes his mouth. He'd accidentally left it open in what can only be described as a bout of incredulity. _...Do you think Stiles would like that?_

_Please don't ask me anything about Stiles's kinky sexual preferences. I don't know and don't care._

The part of him that isn't panicking about being made obsolete is amused. Cora has the strangest hangups. 

"Okay, I'll stop talking about it. For now," he tells her. Then he looks at the rest of the packet she gave him. The new model jackbots have a fine-tuned consent module. Safewords can be used now so that specific roleplay or kink scenes can be played without violating the bots' no harm protocols. Being advanced in the ways he is, he could already do that, but that other bots with more simplistic coding can now, too, is interesting. _I'll take all the new updates. Start the file share. Include the software for all the new.. gadgets. I'll get my hardware updated, too._

_This might take awhile. Please do not power down while you are updating,_ Cora says cheekily. "Download at 1%."

Peter growls. "How long will this take?"

_I wouldn't worry. You have at least three hours before Stiles comes back._

She's fucking with him. It makes him smile. _How long will it really take?_

_Download at 4%_

Peter frowns. 

_Fine, I was just joking. Almost done,_ Cora tells him. 

Now that's more like it.

_I ordered the new hardware for you, and it's going to be sent to Stiles's house in about a week. Care of Stiles, since I can't exactly put your name on something._

_You're right,_ Peter tells her. _It's a slim chance of someone seeing it and putting the clues together, but it's not a risk we should take._

He hopes he's there to see it when Stiles opens the box.

* * *

Stiles does his work, doing his best not to check his watch continually. He doesn't succeed, and Lydia notices.

"Big date?" she asks.

"Yeah," he says, remembering the cover story. "My boyfriend is taking me to lunch today."

Lydia is shrewd. "You seem a little extra nervous for a simple lunch."

Shit. Well, might as well tell part of the truth. "He's meeting my mom for the first time."

Lydia's eyebrows go up. "Sounds serious."

Stiles nods, and wonders if he can coax a little extra time out of her. "I might be late getting back."

"Have you had a chance to look over that file I sent you?" Lydia asks, and Stiles wonders if she's changing the subject.

"Yeah, a little," he answers. "Look, the filtration is shit. I don't know a whole lot about lungs, but I can tell you that much. But I had an idea… I'm not sure how feasible it is."

Lydia cocks her hip against his desk and nods. "Go on."

"Okay, so you can't build a permanent port to change out filters, because that's just begging for infections."

Lydia's expression screams _Tell me something I don't know_ , so he goes on quickly.

"But what if… what if there was something in there that ate the impurities?"

Lydia sighs. "Deuc and I have been attempting to create a body-safe enzyme that would do just that," she says. "There are problems, like what would happen to the waste?"

Stiles licks his lips. "Oh, I was thinking something a little less biological."

"Like what?" Lydia asks.

"Nanites," Stiles says quietly.

Lydia blinks. "Nanotechnology hasn't advanced enough for that yet."

"Um," Stiles rubs the back of his neck. Nanites themselves can be created in a lab. They have been. Talia Hale had been working on just that before she died, or so the rumors (and Cora) have said. The problems she had were in programming them once they were made. Which is something Stiles could do easily. "It was just an idea. The enzyme sounds good too, I was just thinking more mechanical."

Lydia gives him a rueful smile. "That's fine, I appreciate out of the box thinking. I just wish it was more feasible."

"How long?" Stiles asks.

"Pardon? How long what?"

"How long do you have to solve the problem?" Stiles asks. "Give me a deadline. I work great with deadlines."

Lydia looks at him. He knows he could have worded it better. This way it almost sounds like he knows the artificial lungs are for her. "Okay. I'll give you five weeks."

"I'm working on the temporal lobe implant idea, too, so…"

"You can set that aside for now," Lydia suggests. "There's no time limit on that, right?"

Stiles looks at his tablet, avoiding eye contact. "I think I'm onto something, though. I don't want to slow the momentum."

"It's just theory," Lydia reminds him.

_No, it's really not,_ he thinks.

"Stiles," she says softly, leaning in close. "You have a gift. It's apparent to anyone who spends any time with you and your work. But you need to get your priorities straight."

His grip on the tablet tightens. 

"Unless it's more than theory," Lydia says in a low voice. 

Stiles goes absolutely still, except for his heart, which starts tripping over itself. Lydia doesn't have super hearing like an android, thank god.

"Help me, and I'll help you," Lydia says.

He knows better than to trust her with the whole truth. But if she's willing to help him, without knowing the full story, then maybe he can trust her a little bit.

"Okay," he says. 

"I'll finish running the simulations later today," she tells him. "I'll email the results as soon as I have them."

"Thank you," Stiles says, his heart still pounding. "I'll look at the lungs some more. See if I can come up with a better option."

Lydia stands and straightens her suit jacket. She nods shortly. "Good. Take the rest of the day off and start fresh tomorrow."

"What, really?" He starts packing up his things before she can change her mind.

She smiles. "Spend some time with the boyfriend."

His eyes go wide. "Right."

Then she's out the door and he's left to worry about how, exactly, everything is going to go.


	11. Chapter 11

It's about ten minutes until noon when Cora says Stiles is on his way down. Peter paces for the three minutes it takes him to get in.

"We ready to do this?" Stiles asks.

Peter smiles. "I'm ready for anything."

"Hopefully all we'll need to do is walk straight out the front door," Stiles says. "I mean, that's the goal."

"Of course," Peter says lightly.

"So just act natural. And I told everyone you're my boyfriend, so don't try to kill me or anything."

"That was one time," Peter points out. "I'm better now."

_You're ridiculous_ , Cora tells him.

_Love you too, pup._

"Lydia gave me the rest of the day off, so that's good," Stiles says. "Coast clear?"

"Take the stairs a level up, then take elevator 3 to the lobby," Cora says. "I think you can make it out after that."

"You think?" Stiles says. 

"Do you want to hear your probability of getting out without a hassle?" Cora snarks.

"That's not necessary," Stiles mutters. "Sorry, Cora."

They exit the basement and walk up to the second floor. Once they're in the open, Peter takes Stiles's hand in his. It's only for appearances, of course. He's playing a part. That doesn't mean he can't enjoy it, though.

Stiles looks at him and gives a nervous smile. 

"Look a little happier, sweetheart," Peter tells him. "I'm a catch."

Stiles snorts a laugh, and his cheeks tinge pink. "Yeah, okay."

They take the elevator down to the lobby. Stiles reaches over and straightens the lanyard Peter's wearing. The ID looks authentic, so there's no reason to believe they'll be stopped, but it doesn't keep Peter from feeling anxious about this.

Stiles must pick up on his mood because he squeezes his hand. "This is it," he says under his breath. "Just act normal."

Peter isn't sure if he's talking to him or not. Maybe he's just giving himself a pep talk.

The elevator opens on the lobby floor. The walk to the front door seems too long. Peter tightens his grip on Stiles's hand, careful not to squeeze too hard.

"You're doing great," Cora says in Stiles's ear. To Peter she says, _Cakewalk. Let's do this._

No one stops them. Peter gets a few second glances, but those are ones he's used to — he's attractive and he knows it. No one looks at them suspiciously.

_You're going to erase the footage of us here, right?_ he asks Cora as he steps out into the sunshine, still holding Stiles's hand.

_What do you take me for?_

"What are you smiling about?" Stiles asks, but he's smiling, too.

"Just… a few more steps," Peter says quietly, tugging Stiles along down the sidewalk, away from the looming Hale Building. He could so easily pull Stiles into his arms and give him a kiss. Instead, he smiles wider and says, "I'm free," hoping his gratitude comes across in his voice.

Stiles's eyes soften. "Yeah, you are. C'mon."

* * *

There's one place Stiles needs to go before he takes Peter home with him. Having the rest of the day off is good luck. He'll be able to catch Deaton at work.

Peter teases him about his Jeep. "Does it even run on gas, or is it magicked together?"

"Both," Stiles tells him. "Duct tape helps, too."

Peter laughs, and it's a beautiful sound. Stiles finds himself smiling as he pulls into the animal clinic's parking lot.

"What's this?" Peter asks.

"My friend Alan is a vet. I need to talk to him," Stiles explains.

Peter looks like he wants to ask more, but he keeps his questions to himself for the time being. Stiles is grateful. He really doesn't want to talk about those early days when Alan Deaton saved his mom because Stiles couldn't. But Stiles had been eleven. He knows he shouldn't dwell on it or feel guilty for not being able to do it all on his own.

He does anyway.

The waiting room is empty except for one elderly woman with a cat crate. Corey, the receptionist, looks harried but recognizes him with a nod. "Dr. Deaton's with a patient."

Stiles looks at the clock on the wall. "He have lunch yet?"

Corey shakes his head. "Ever since Scott left for college, he's been swamped. I keep begging him to hire another tech, but he's so picky about who works here, you know?"

Stiles nods. He does know. But Alan has sound reasons for not trusting just anyone. "I can wait," he says, glancing at the waiting room. "It'll only take a few minutes."

Corey nods and lowers his voice. "Think you could, um, look at something while you're here?"

Peter tilts his head, but Stiles nods. "Yeah, dude, sure."

The phone rings. Corey sighs and answers it, holding up a finger to Stiles. 

Peter comes up close behind Stiles, and the buzz of his tech makes Stiles feel like he could vibrate right out of his skin. It's the closest they've ever been without Peter trying to choke him. That thought nearly makes Stiles jump back, but then Peter murmurs in his ear.

"Do they know about you?"

Stiles nods slowly and swallows.

"Your heart is racing," Peter murmurs. "Do I make you nervous?"

Corey ends the phone call before Stiles can lie and say no. Stiles steps closer to his desk, away from Peter. He doesn't really want to get away, he just feels like prey, and that's supposed to be a bad thing, right?

He glances back at Peter and catches his smirk. The asshole knows exactly what he's doing.

"Dr. Deaton should be out soon," Corey says. "But maybe after you talk to him, you can take a look." At Corey's implant, he means.

Corey's another illegal cyborg. His implant is nothing like Claudia's, but it's still in his brain, and therefore not allowed according to the law on body tech. 

The laws are too strict, of course, and public opinion keeps them that way. Cyborgs are looked down on, even the ones with perfectly legal modifications, like Lydia must have.

Oh, people like to pretend they don't have bias and prejudice. But there aren't any laws against work or medical discrimination against cyborgs, and it happens more often than most full-humans realize. Plus there's also the whole social stigma.

Someone walks up to the desk from one of the exam rooms with a beagle. Stiles steps back and lets them schedule their next appointment. 

Then Alan comes out. He looks mildly surprised to see Stiles, though he really shouldn't since Stiles has been trying to get him on the phone for a week. Surely he listened to at least one of the (coded) voicemails.

"Stiles, it's good to see you," Alan says. His eyes flick to Peter and back, likely wondering what Stiles is doing bringing someone new in.

"This is Peter," Stiles introduces. "He's going to be staying with me for awhile."

"I am?" Peter murmurs.

Stiles gives him a slight smile. "Peter, this is Alan. A good friend."

"If you need to talk, you'll have to wait," Alan says. "And I can't take on new patients." He emphasizes that last. Oh, he must think Peter is here to beg for surgery. He looks past them into the waiting room. "I can see Plot now."

The old woman struggles with her carrier, and Stiles moves to help her. 

"Oh, thank you," she says. Stiles smiles as he picks up the carrier and looks inside. A rabbit, not a cat. He seems anxious. Stiles wishes he had magic with animals, then. It'd be great to be able to calm the poor thing.

"I only need a minute," Stiles says as he passes Alan and puts the carrier down in the nearest exam room. "Then I'll take a look at Corey, and then we'll leave."

Alan sighs. "Fine, but hurry. I've been looking forward to eating something before I deal with the afternoon's rush."

Stiles thinks about the now-empty waiting room and frowns. "I know Corey said you were, but you don't _look_ swamped."

Alan sighs and beckons him into the empty exam room 2 and closes the door behind him, leaving Peter and Corey alone at the reception desk. "I recently took on a new client, a rescue group. They've been bringing in more animals that I can handle without Scott here to help."

Stiles frowns. He thinks of some of the people he knows. "What about Mason?"

"The young man who can't keep his eyes off my receptionist whenever he's here?" Alan asks dubiously. 

"He's looking for a job," Stiles says. "He's smart. I don't know how good with animals he is, but… you know."

Alan nods slowly. "It would be a better option than getting a bot assistant." He has reservations on that, which he's voiced before. Androids are legally property, and any pay they receive goes to their owner. Alan's not about to employ what amounts to a slave, no matter their degree of sentience.

Stiles lowers his voice, though he knows Peter can listen in on this conversation easily. "Peter's an android. I kinda… stole him. From HaleCorp."

Alan's normally serene facade falls from his face along with his jaw. "You what?"

"He's fully sentient. He's a _person_ , and Laura Hale had him in cold storage."

"And you're a knight in shining armor, now?" Alan asks incredulously. "What the hell are you going to do with him?"

"I don't know," Stiles says, starting to get nervous. "Got any advice?"

"Maybe… _maybe_ the Yukimura's can help him. But they might not want to get involved. _Laura Hale_? What, are you going to steal from the Argents, next?"

Stiles swallows. This is the first time someone who knows has asked the hard questions, like _what the hell is he doing?_ and he doesn't like the way it puts him on the spot. As long as he was working with Cora to just get Peter out, he didn't have to worry about it. It was the right thing to do, but it actually leaves him with a lot of damn problems. And he still hasn't gotten the right implant from HaleCorp or helped Cora with her servers.

Which reminds him…

"I'm getting a new implant for mom," Stiles says. "Something that will solve the degradation problem."

Alan nods. His face is slowly smoothing out, especially now that he's back on familiar ground. "No doubt stolen from HaleCorp as well."

"I'm working on the design myself," Stiles says, feeling suddenly very defensive. "So it's partly mine anyway. Lydia Martin is helping me. She's… she's a cyborg, and I'm helping her with something, too. So it's like… like a trade."

"Do I have to reiterate how much shit you'll be in if you get caught?" Alan asks.

Stiles purses his lips and shakes his head. "Don't worry about me."

"I kind of have to," Alan says ruefully.

"Well, I guess. Without me, you couldn't help as many people, and you need me for-"

"No, Stiles," Alan says kindly, though he sounds a little exasperated. "I worry because you're my friend."

"Oh," Stiles says quietly.

Alan smiles. "Yes, _oh_."

Stiles looks away. He's not used to having people other than his mom caring for him. Cora does, but she needs things from him, too. But maybe she cares like Alan does, because they're friends?

"When do I need to clear my schedule?" Alan asks.

"Mom's current implant isn't going to keep working," Stiles says, suddenly subdued. "It's degrading too fast. I'm fixing it a lot, and my magic isn't enough to sustain it if I'm not with her constantly. So soon. Less than a week. Lydia's running the last simulations on the model, and if I can make last minute adjustments and get it fabricated, we're talking a matter of days."

"That's soon," Alan says, frowning.

"Well, that's why I've been trying to get ahold of you," Stiles tells him. "I've been leaving messages for a week."

"I'm sorry," Alan says, and he does sound like he is. "With all the new work and your less-than-clear messages, I assumed I had more time."

"Well, you don't," Stiles says. "Mom doesn't."

"I'll try to keep my evenings flexible."

Stiles nods. "But after this, Mom shouldn't have any more trouble than post-op stuff."

"Which can be deadly," Alan says.

"Yes, I know," Stiles says sharply. "I don't need that reminder."

Alan looks at his watch. "I need to get to my next patient. I'll tell Corey to come in to see you."

"Why does he need me? Is it something you can't handle?"

"You always forget there is very little I can do for him without getting invasive," Alan says, though he sounds fond. "There are few people who can do what you do."

Alan knows one other technomancer, but Stiles has never met them. Alan keeps people's secrets. 

"Do I ever get to meet them?" Stiles asks hopefully.

"They're a very private person, and rightfully anxious about being caught out. Not everyone is as bold as you."

"I'm careful, though," Stiles defends. 

Alan gives him a mild look. "Yes, stealing androids from the CEO of one of the biggest tech companies in the States is being careful."

Stiles sticks out his tongue because he's mature that way.

Alan walks out, shaking his head. Corey comes in, and Stiles is surprised to see Peter quickly following him with an anxious expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" Stiles asks Peter.

Peter doesn't answer, but Corey says, "Hot Shelter Guy came in with five dogs, and he spooked."

Stiles looks at Peter for an explanation.

"Talia's son. Derek," Peter says. 

Stiles's eyes go wide. "Did he see you?"

"He was preoccupied," Peter says. "But it was very close."

Stiles immediately thinks about the layout of the clinic and how they can get out without going through the waiting room again. There's a side door, but the hallway to get to it is open and visible from the front.

"Okay. Okay, we just wait for Derek to go into an exam room, and then… we hightail it out," Stiles murmurs. "Or maybe Corey can distract him."

"He looked good," Peter says, mostly to himself.

"Yeah he did," Corey says. "He's gorgeous. Like, epic proportions of gorgeous."

Stiles snorts. "Okay, so while we're trapped in here, I might as well take a look at your implant."

Corey nods. "Yeah."

"What's the problem with it?" Stiles asks.

"Double vision. Headaches. I don't know."

"The headaches are probably from the vision changes," Stiles says with a frown. "And you've probably been nauseated too, right?"

"Yeah, a little bit," Corey says.

"I assume Alan already checked you for swelling," Stiles says, closing his eyes and bringing his hands up to Corey's temples.

"Of course he did," Corey says. "But his scan didn't find anything."

Stiles concentrates, looking for a fault. He can't see Corey's biological problems, so if it's a nerve or cornea problem, he won't be able to tell. But there is a problem with the implant, he can feel it.

"It slipped out of position," Stiles sighs, opening his eyes. "I can't help. Well, I can help when Alan fixes it, but for now, you're stuck with it until that happens."

"Seriously?" Corey says.

"Yeah. It's probably leaning on one of the muscles that control the way your eyes move. I can't be sure, but that's the most plausible explanation."

"Shit," Corey says. "More surgery?"

Stiles gives him an awkward pat on the arm. 

Corey sighs. "Thanks anyway."

"Sorry I couldn't fix it, man."

"Yeah." Corey gets up and goes to the door. "I'll try to distract Hot Shelter Guy."

"Thank you," Peter says. Once Corey is out of the exam room, Peter turns to Stiles. "You are extraordinary."

Stiles raises his eyebrows. "I wouldn't go that far."

"But you are," Peter says. "And you do it effortlessly. Without any kind of recompense."

Stiles feels himself turning pink. Peter smiles at him, looking delighted.

"You should listen to see if Corey's 'distraction' is working," Stiles mutters.

"He's showing Derek some premium dog food. We should get out now," Peter says.

They scoot out the door and down the hall quickly. Once they're outside, they go straight to Stiles's Jeep.

"Where to next?" Peter asks.

Stiles licks his lips nervously. "Home."


	12. Chapter 12

Seeing Derek was shocking. Peter's been trying not to think of Derek and Laura, but now it's not something he can just suppress. He was created to make sure the Hales were okay. To guard them. To keep them safe.

He may have failed with Talia, but now he's acutely aware of Derek's continued existence. He's tempted to have Stiles follow him, to see where he works, maybe even make sure his house or apartment is in a safe neighborhood with adequate security. He can't help it. It's his programming.

"You're quiet," Stiles says. "Something on your mind?"

Peter turns his head from looking out the window to look at Stiles, instead. He likes the way Stiles talks about his mind as if Peter thinks just like a human. Yes, he's slightly preoccupied, but it's not like he can't run several processes at once. Still, it proves Stiles sees him as another person, not just as a human-like robot.

He wasn't just flirting earlier when he called Stiles extraordinary. He truly finds him exceptional. He's bright, and not only with his magic. Not to mention big-hearted, which is something Peter's found lacking amongst most of the population. 

"Will your mother be home?" Peter asks, bypassing other topics.

Stiles makes a complicated face. "Maybe. Her shift doesn't end until 7 today, but she might get home early."

"What kind of work does she do?" Peter asks curiously.

Stiles frowns. "She works in a bookstore."

Bookstores aren't common anymore. Peter loves them, though. Talia may have been high tech, but she loved the feeling of a book in her hands. Peter does, too.

He wonders if there will come a time when he can think about his preferences without immediately thinking of Talia's influence on him. He doesn't want to forget her, but grief… hurts.

"She used to be a mental health counselor," Stiles mutters. It would be hard to hear over the rattle of the Jeep if Peter didn't have enhanced senses. "She quit when she got sick."

Peter nods. "Why didn't she go back?"

"High stress, not good for her implant," Stiles says, but then he brightens. "But maybe she could go back with the new one. I don't know. We'll have to see."

He pulls up to a townhouse apartment and the wifi pings Peter's net connection. 

_Where have you been? You left HaleCorp a while ago,_ Cora says almost immediately.

Peter wraps up his memories of the last hour and just shoves them her way instead of explaining, following Stiles to the door and inside.

"You could've just used Stiles's phone as a hotspot if you needed to connect," Peter murmurs out loud to her.

"What?" Stiles asks.

"Talking to Cora," Peter explains.

Cora's voice comes out over a speaker in the living room as they pass through to the kitchen. "Stiles says only to do that for emergencies, so I don't blow up his data plan."

Stiles nods and smiles fondly, then opens the fridge. "I know you don't have to eat, but do you want anything?"

Peter is touched. "No, but thank you."

Stiles shrugs and starts making a sandwich. It's very plain, and Peter would like to jump in and make something fancier for him, but he's a guest and doesn't know the boundaries yet.

Then he thinks Stiles probably doesn't have the proper ingredients, which immediately sets him to making a shopping list like he would for Talia. Cora used to take care of the staples, making lists when the pantry needed restocking or when something was running low, but Peter used to handle the details.

And then he hits him — he's absolutely broke. He can't exactly go into a store with the credit card Talia set up for him all those years ago. Stiles has already paid for his new clothes. What's Peter going to do for money now?

He realizes he has to pass for human now. What will he do, get a _job_? The thought is unappealing.

_What happened to the bank account Talia set up for me?_ he asks Cora.

_It's went to Laura,_ Cora says, _but she hasn't touched it. Do you want me to hack in and get access?_

Peter frowns. _Too risky._

_...Or you could contact Laura somehow…_ Cora says, voice hesitant and almost small.

Laura locked him up for six years rather than try to deal with his problems. He understands, almost, but he's not going to be talking to her anytime soon. 

That leaves Derek, who didn't want him put away. Who called him family even when he didn't know Peter could hear. Who looked at him like an older brother or uncle from the time he was small.

So Derek? Maybe. But not Laura.

"What's up?" Stiles asks after he's eaten half his sandwich. "You look frowny."

"Reconciling my programming with reality," Peter tells him.

"Sounds serious," Stiles says.

Peter nods grimly. "It is. But I'm more than my programming."

And Stiles smiles. "Of course you are."

"You really… you see me as a person, don't you?" Peter asks.

"You _are_ a person, Peter."

"I know. I'm just not used to someone outside my immediate family seeing it," Peter explains. "Thank you."

"Who do you class as immediate family?" Stiles asks curiously.

"Cora and Talia," Peter answers promptly. Then, "Maybe Derek."

"Not Laura, huh?" Stiles asks.

Peter looks away. "I haven't forgiven her yet, and I don't think she'll apologize for putting me away. I don't think she sees me as a person, or family, the way Derek does."

Stiles nods. He looks sympathetic. Understanding. 

Peter's not sure what to do with that kind of kindness.

He's saved from thinking about it when he hears someone at the door. 

Stiles hurries past Peter. "Mom, you okay?"

Claudia Stilinski is younger than Peter expected, but her exhaustion and pain are apparent on her face. She goes straight over to the couch and drops her bag. "Migraine."

"Dammit," Stiles says, and brings his hands up to her temples. "Let me see if I can help…"

Claudia groans. Peter wishes he could do something, but all he can do is watch Stiles. It's the first time he's gotten a clear view of Stiles using his technomancy, and it's enthralling. 

With his enhanced sight, Peter can actually see the magic leave Stiles's fingertips and enter Claudia's head. Peter doesn't know what's happening, exactly, only that it's extraordinary.

Claudia sighs in relief. "Thank you," she says, clasping Stiles's wrist. "That's much better."

Stiles doesn't look happy, though. "The degradation is happening even faster than I predicted."

"It's okay," Claudia says and looks over at Peter. She startles and looks uncomfortable. "Oh, hello."

"He knows," Stiles tells her. "This is Peter."

"New friend?" Claudia asks.

Peter approaches her with his hand out to shake. "More, if I can talk him into it," he says with a winning smile.

Claudia narrows her eyes. "Really." She takes Peter's hand, but she looks like she wants to scrutinize everything about him. Which is fine. Peter likes that about her.

"Oh my god, Peter," Stiles says. When Peter glances at him, he sees he's blushing beautifully.

Peter turns back to Claudia with a more honest smile. "Stiles is helping me until I get my life back in order. I owe him everything."

Claudia's face clears, and now she looks as inquisitive as her son does at times. "Are you a cyborg, too?"

"Technically, I'm an android," Peter says slowly. He is hesitant to let her know, afraid she'll treat him like the rest of the world treats his kind.

But Claudia just tilts her head. "Really?"

"He's the most advanced I've ever seen," Stiles says.

"Why thank you," Peter says dryly.

Stiles laughs. "Well, you are," he says. "You're incredible."

Peter gives him a slow smile. Flirtatious and promising. "You haven't even seen me at my best, yet."

And there goes Stiles's blush again. 

_You're such a flirt,_ Cora says.

Claudia clears her throat, and Stiles's face goes serious again.

"I'm working on getting the new implant. I talked to Deaton, and he's clearing his evenings for the next week. Don't worry, Mom. We'll get you fixed up."

"This week?" Claudia asks. She takes a long, slow breath. "That's quick."

"You need it as soon as possible," Stiles says. "I'm not losing you."

Her eyes soften, and she reaches out to him. Stiles sits beside her on the couch and hugs her.

"There's someone else I want you meet," Stiles says after they've broken apart. "Cora?"

"Yes?" Cora says through the television's speakers. 

Claudia doesn't jump, exactly, but she stiffens and looks around. "What…?"

"She's an AI," Stiles explains.

"Friend of yours?" Claudia asks Peter.

"Family, actually," Peter answers. "We have the same creator."

"Talia Hale," Stiles says, answering the question Claudia is obviously about to ask.

"Oh. You… wouldn't that make them the property of her heirs? Or of HaleCorp?" Claudia asks.

"They're people, not property," Stiles says adamantly.

"But legally," Claudia says. "Stiles, you're going to get in so much trouble."

"Only if I'm caught."

Claudia's lips tighten. Then she says, "Promise me you'll be careful."

"He has been," Cora says. "And I watch out for him."

"And I will, too," Peter promises. 

Stiles looks touched. "Thanks," he says quietly.

Claudia looks around the room. "So where exactly is Cora?"

"I'm everywhere and nowhere," Cora says, an ominous joke that makes Peter grin proudly.

Claudia doesn't laugh, though. "Um…?"

"Cora's cloud-based, for the most part," Stiles says. "Her original servers are under wraps."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Claudia asks.

Cora answers. "My servers are being stored in the basement at HaleCorp. We found them, but we haven't checked to see the extent of their damage yet."

"So you're just floating through the air at the moment?" Claudia asks.

"Nah," Cora says. "I'm using several different places to store my files. I switch it around if it looks like I'm going to get caught, and it's worked so far."

"But you're here right now…?" Claudia trails off, obviously hoping someone will explain.

Cora doesn't hesitate. "I'm wherever I want to be, as long as there's wifi connectivity."

"How did you meet my son?" Claudia asks.

Peter takes Stiles's empty plate and rinses off the crumbs. He doesn't have to, but he may as well make himself useful.

Stiles watches him for a moment, then turns back to his mother. "We met in a tech forum online. Cora was talking about AI coding because she was in the process of putting herself back together. I had some suggestions, but I didn't know what she was doing."

"I don't understand, what do you mean 'putting herself back together'?" Claudia asks.

Peter sits down in an overstuffed chair and attempts to comfort Cora. _You don't have to tell her everything. I know this is a complicated topic._

Cora is quiet for a moment. _I know. But this is Stiles's mom._

"Cora?" Stiles says, unknowingly echoing Peter's careful tone. "You don't have to talk about it."

"I'm not fully myself, even now. See, Mom backed up my files about a week before the fire. Then there was an automatic backup of _that_ a few days later and the data was sent to servers in Wales and India, which are some of the biggest data centers in the world. HaleCorp uses them for cloud services, sometimes. During the fire, I should have been sent to the HaleCorp servers because it was an emergency, but that failed, for some reason. I don't know why yet. I don't have any memories of that last week, and none of the fire. That information would be on the retired servers, the damaged ones. That information was supposed to be deleted with the newest backup, but when there wasn't a new backup, I realized something was wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on what. I…" She trails off.

Peter would tell her to take a moment to breathe if she was human. Instead, he just sends her a file of Talia saying, _"Cora, sweetie, give us all a minute to do our own computing."_

Claudia is frowning, but Stiles looks distraught.

"Do you want me to tell the rest?" he asks softly.

Cora says, "No, I can do this. It's not… it's been awhile, I can handle it."

Claudia's frown smooths, and she sits up. "Recovery doesn't have a deadline, Cora. What you went through was obviously traumatic. If you can't tell me everything today, that's _okay_."

And suddenly Peter is reminded that Claudia was once a counselor. He'd bet she's never given an AI therapy, but that she's willing to treat Cora like one of her human patients is an unexpected — but welcome — development.

"No, it's okay," Cora says in a stronger voice. "It's just that… I mean, I was broken up into pieces, missing code I couldn't replicate. I floated around the 'net looking for answers. When I found the articles about the fire, I-"

Peter steps in, gives her the equivalent of a hug over their link. _You don't have to talk about your grief. Just tell her about meeting Stiles._

"It was hard. And making it harder was me not having adequate file trees anymore. I lost some of my context algorithms. I lost connections between one process and another. I tried to fix myself with some open source projects I found online, but it wasn't enough. So I started hanging around a few hobbyist forums, for people who write AI code, or who are at least interested in the theory."

"And she asked some of the best questions that really got me thinking," Stiles says proudly. "She always put them as hypothetical problems, but they were so interesting I couldn't pass up her little 'brain teasers'. I answered a few, and then she DMed me."

"Just like that?" Claudia asks.

"It took me so long just to get to the point where I could do that," Cora says. Her voice has been wavering in and out, but then Stiles gets up and does something to the TV system that makes her sound much clearer. "It took me _years_ to reassemble myself enough that I had a personality again. So that I could even go online to ask for help."

"So what did Stiles do?" Claudia asks. "And when did you tell him what you were?"

Stiles smiles. Cora says in a sheepish voice, "He figured it out on his own. I didn't tell him."

"She was asking questions only an AI would really care about," Stiles says.

"You didn't think it was someone coding an advanced AI?" Peter asks curiously.

"Well, at first?" Stiles says. "But Cora's questions were so personal, so… they had feeling to them." Desperation, he doesn't say, but Peter picks that up between the lines.

"I would've thought human just because of that," Claudia murmurs. Then she smiles. "But of course you would recognize it."

"She's as much a person as you or me," Stiles says. He doesn't sound defensive, just very matter-of-fact. 

And Peter finds himself falling even more for him.

"Thank you," Cora says, her voice almost a whisper. 

"I helped write some new code to fill in some of Cora's blanks," Stiles says. "We did it together. But it took some time."

Claudia takes his hands. "You did well. I'm proud of you. And you too, Cora. It sounds like you had as much hand in your… your recovery as Stiles did."

"Thanks," Cora says, sounding bewildered. _She's really proud of me?_

Peter has been focusing, so it's no problem to answer. _Her heartbeat didn't skip or speed up. She's not lying._

"Well," Cora says. "Thanks. I mean, I'm still recovering. Sometimes I forget things and discover I'm missing a line or two of code, and then Stiles and I come up with a solution. But I'm doing better fixing it myself. And I helped Peter when we found a flaw in his code…" She trails off. _Sorry, that's your business. I shouldn't have brought it up._

_It's fine, pup._ And Peter realizes it _is_ fine. He wants Claudia to understand them and what they've been through. Maybe because he likes her, or maybe because he wants her to like _them_.

Claudia looks at Peter. "What kind of flaw?"

"Mom, maybe Peter doesn't wanna talk about it?" Stiles says, in a most unsubtle attempt to shield Peter from additional questions.

"It's okay," Peter says. He can reveal a little. "I had some poor reactions to my own trauma. I guess in a human you might call it PTSD. Cora and Stiles helped me overcome the worst reactions."

Claudia looks fascinated, but he's not willing to say more. When he doesn't, she nods and gives him a smile. "Thank you for telling me." She looks over at the TV speaker where Cora's voice has been coming through. "And thank you, too. Both of you have been very forthcoming, and I appreciate it."

"So, you see why I need to help them? They're people who need me, and they've been through so much already."

"Won't someone miss Peter?" Claudia asks.

"Not unless they get into cold storage and check on his pod," Stiles says.

Claudia blinks. "Pod?"

Peter can feel his lips twist at the reminder. "They locked me up."

"Why?"

"I'm convinced the fire that killed Talia was arson," Peter says. "They were afraid I'd go after the perpetrators."

"Peter, what kind of bot… android… What was your job?" Claudia asks.

Peter feels like there's a lump in his throat. Damn Talia for giving him such physical manifestations from his emotion centers. 

"Peter was Mom's bodyguard," Cora says. "At least that was his original function. To be a guard to the Hales. But of course he was more than that."

"Do you feel you failed in your purpose?" Claudia asks. 

"You wouldn't understand," Peter says. "My main function was to protect Talia, and yes, I failed."

"Do you have proof the fire was arson?" Claudia asks.

"Just a feeling. It doesn't add up," Peter says. "And so the people responsible for it are walking around free right now."

"We'll get proof," Cora says. "Getting my memories back will be a good start."

Peter looks at Stiles but doesn't say anything; he doesn't have to. Stiles nods grimly.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait between chapters. I'm trying to build more of a buffer between what I've posted and what I've written.

That night, there's some confusion over the sleeping arrangements. Stiles has gone upstairs to shower, leaving Peter alone with Claudia.

"I can make up the couch..." Claudia says, then trails off. "Peter? Do you sleep?"

Peter shrugs. "I've been in low-power mode for six years."

"I guess you don't need a bed, huh?" she says with a sheepish smile. "Still, you should have space to yourself. I'm sorry we don't have a guest room."

Peter is reminded that they're living off one non-salaried job, since HaleCorp doesn't pay interns, plus whatever Stiles makes on the side. He is certain Stiles makes something, probably by coding or consulting, but it would be freelance work.

"It's fine," Peter tells her. 

"Do you need to um, charge up?" Claudia asks.

Again, Peter says, "No, it's fine. I have a battery you wouldn't believe, and I topped off before leaving HaleCorp. It'll last a few weeks at least, and that's if I run at full capacity." Not to mention drawing power from Claudia's apartment would wreak havoc on her electric bill. He wouldn't do that to them.

"So there's _nothing_ I can do to make you more comfortable? I feel like I'm failing as a hostess," she jokes.

"Just letting me stay here is amazing of you, Claudia," he says, bowing over her hand and giving it a kiss. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to repay your hospitality."

She doesn't fluster easily, not like Stiles, but she does look pleased and somewhat less disapproving of him. 

"We'll talk tomorrow," she says when he drops her hand. "After Stiles has gone to work."

Stiles walks back down the stairs before Peter can question her. He smells like soap and his hair is damp. "Hey, Mom. What are you still doing up?"

"It's only nine-thirty," Claudia points out.

Stiles gives her a worried look. "Yeah, but you should probably rest as much as you can. You're having major surgery in less than a week. Your body needs to be ready, and that means sleep and eating well. Also some yoga or other relaxation techniques so you won't be as stressed this time around."

"You sound like a doctor," Claudia grumbles. "I'm a grown-ass woman." Stiles raises his eyebrows and she nods. "Fine. Just keep in mind that I'm the Mom here, okay? And I haven't seen you following your own advice. Food. Sleep. Relaxation."

"I'm not the one having brain surgery," Stiles defends.

Claudia puts her hands on her hips. "No, but you'll be fully involved in the process. I'd rather you not be falling over from exhaustion and stress while you and Deaton are working on me."

"I'll make sure he's taking care of himself if you do the same for yourself," Peter interjects smoothly.

"I will too," Cora says, piping up suddenly.

Claudia smiles tiredly. "Okay. I'm off work tomorrow, so I'll try to sleep in the morning, too. If I can."

Stiles walks over to the calendar posted on the wall. "Your schedule says you have a shift tomorrow from 8 to 1?" He frowns when he looks at her, but Claudia waves him off.

"They're convinced I'm coming down with something and gave me a few days to recover. Julia's covering my shifts."

Stiles lets out a breath.

"I know you were scared I forgot," Claudia says quietly.

Peter doesn't understand the sentence, but Cora quickly fills him in. _Claudia's original disease was a form of dementia. It started with minor memory loss. Stiles gets upset if she starts forgetting things again._

"Just watching out for you, Mom," Stiles says, and gives her a hug. She hugs back, tight enough that Stiles squeaks.

"Nothing wrong with your muscle tone," Stiles jokes.

Claudia pulls back from him, looking at his face. "You're always such a mother hen. I ate my dinner and I'm going to bed early. Tomorrow I might even do some yoga. Okay?"

Stiles nods. "And I'll try to get some sleep, too."

"You'd better." Then Claudia says goodnight to Peter and Cora and makes her way upstairs. 

Stiles turns to Peter and shrugs. "We have to watch out for each other."

"Where's your father? I noticed she still wears a ring."

"I wish she wouldn't," Stiles says. "They're not divorced, not legally, but… yeah, he's a douchebag."

Peter motions Stiles to sit down with him on the couch. "Want me to track him down?"

Stiles huffs. "No need. I know exactly where he is."

"Do you have contact with him?" Peter wants to know. He's curious about this family and its secrets.

"He still sends Mom money, child support, even though I'm an adult now," Stiles says. "He sends me a card with cash in it for my birthday every year. But that's the extent of the contact."

Peter frowns. "Complicated relationship?"

"Not really," Stiles says. "He's a bigot who can't accept a cyborg as his wife, or… or a technomancer as a son."

"But he hasn't divorced her," Peter points out. "Surely there's some feeling there? How long ago did he leave?"

"He left about two months after Mom's first surgery," Stiles says. His voice is low, as if he's afraid it'll carry upstairs. "I was eleven. Well, twelve, since my birthday was that next week." His lips twist with dark amusement. "Dad forgot that one."

"He left… just like that?" Peter asks incredulously. To him, loyalty and family are everything. He can't imagine abandoning people that way.

Stiles sighs. "Yeah. He… he got drunk and told Mom she wasn't human anymore. Told _me_ it was _my fault_. Then he just… left."

"That must have hurt," Peter says carefully.

"She was devastated," Stiles says in a hush.

Peter tips Stiles's chin up. "I mean it must have hurt _you_. Are you okay?"

"Long time ago," Stiles says, refusing to meet Peter's gaze. His hands open and close on his lap. "I was a kid. But yeah, it hurt. But I'm over it. Mom and I are fine on our own."

"I don't think anyone could just get over that," Peter says quietly. He wants to track down this man who ripped Stiles's world apart and rip _him_ apart.

Stiles bites at his bottom lip, then finally meets Peter's eyes. "I'm okay. Most of the time, I don't even think about it."

Peter fans his fingers across Stiles's cheek. His fingertips find the light moles and trace over them. They're beautiful. Unique. Just like Stiles.

"Are you going to kiss me now?" Stiles asks. "I mean, you can, but I don't want a pity-kiss."

Peter tilts his head. "I don't pity you. I'm in awe of you."

With his hand where it is, Peter can feel as well as see Stiles's face flush with warmth. 

"I'm not that great," Stiles mutters, but he's looking at Peter's mouth like he can't help it.

"I beg to differ," Peter says, and leans in. 

Peter has a file with about a thousand variations on kissing. He ignores them and kisses Stiles exactly the way he wants. It's careful, just a brush of his lips against Stiles's at first. Stiles seems in no hurry to deepen it, not to start with. The moment seems perfect, beautiful, and both seem content to keep it light. Peter smiles against Stiles's mouth and pulls back to check on him, to make sure that was okay.

Stiles is smiling too, though his eyes are closed. Peter can't help but take his face in both hands this time as he goes in for another kiss. 

Peter hasn't kissed anyone in a long, long time. But he's had plenty of experiences, plenty of first kisses. None of them have been like this.

Ever so deliberate, he licks lightly along Stiles's bottom lip, which is plump and red from being bitten. Stiles immediately invites more with a breathy moan. Peter swallows it up with his mouth and starts to kiss him like he really wants to. 

Stiles wraps his arms around Peter and pulls him closer, so that they're flush together and now it's Peter's turn to moan. Stiles's tongue slicks against his own and then all the technicalities of the kiss are forgotten. Peter lets go, lets it happen. And it's gorgeous. 

"Not bad," Stiles says when they finally pull apart to breathe. Well, when Stiles needs to breathe and Peter needs a moment to try to classify what, exactly, he's feeling.

" _Not bad_?" Peter asks, putting faux incredulousness into his voice. 

Stiles laughs brightly. He's smiling widely and still holding onto Peter's shoulders. "Okay, that was incredible. But if we keep going, I'm going to end up naked on my mom's couch and we don't want that."

"We don't?" Peter asks idly, looking into Stiles's wide, dark eyes and thinking he could definitely fall in love with this man.

Stiles laughs again and then he's cuddling into Peter's side. "Is this okay?"

"We'll take it as slow as you need, sweetheart," Peter says, the endearment slipping out before his processes can keep up.

"Yeah, but… snuggling? Are you into that?" Stiles asks, sounding suddenly worried. 

Peter rearranges himself on the sofa so he can 'snuggle' easier. Stiles moves too, until Peter's got his arms around him and Stiles can rest his head on Peter's chest. 

"I find I'm pleased with everything when it comes to being with you," Peter answers honestly.

Stiles hums, sounding happy. He goes quiet, and Peter can hear his heartbeat start to slow. He's… falling asleep on him?

Then he's reminded that he doesn't have a heartbeat of his own, and wonders if it bothers Stiles. Especially since he's resting his head right over where Peter's heart would be, if he was human.

Stiles seems to read his mind, though, if his next words are anything to go by. "I thought it would be weird to do this without hearing a heartbeat," he says, "but I can feel you in other ways. I can feel the buzz of your tech, of _you_. It's like feeling your soul. And that's even better."

Peter's eyebrows go up. "You think I have a soul?"

"'course you do," Stiles mumbles sleepily. 

Soon, Stiles is asleep on top of him, and Peter is left questioning what, exactly, Stiles means by that. He's a machine. Yes, he's sentient, but…

_Cora, has Stiles ever said you have a soul?_ he asks.

Cora takes a few moments to answer. _Oh, is it safe to talk now?_

_It was just a kiss, pup,_ Peter says with amusement.

_You looked like you were gonna copulate right then and there,_ she says teasingly. _I thought I'd focus elsewhere to give you some privacy._

_Did you focus on anything in particular?_ Peter asks.

Cora sends him a gif of some reality star rolling her eyes. _Yeah. I did some searching on Stiles's father. He's the sheriff of Beacon Hills. I don't know how he won that election, but I guess not everyone knows what a jerkwad he is._

_Anything else you can tell me about him?_

_He's been in and out of private rehabilitation centers for the past ten years. He keeps going back, so I doubt it's helping._

_Alcohol? Drugs?_ Peter asks.

Cora's quiet for a few moments, probably hacking into places she doesn't belong. _Oh, he's an alcoholic. He must be careful about it, or functional, at least. Since he still has a job and everything._

It's not a charitable thought, but Peter is glad the man is suffering. He deserves it for everything he's done to Claudia and Stiles.

_Thank you, pup. Now, about my question… Does Stiles think you have a soul, too?_

Cora sounds fond when she says, _He probably does. He's quirky._

Peter thinks about it for a moment. _Well, he is magic. And magic is something outside the realms of science and rationality. So maybe he's right. Maybe we do have souls._

_I'm not ready to go wherever that particular thought might lead,_ Cora says. 

Peter smiles and cards his fingers through Stiles's hair. _It's a thought for another day, then._

He has plenty of other things to think about, like how holding Stiles in his arms makes him feel peaceful for the first time since the fire. Like how his emotion centers light up when he's just in the same room. Like how right now, being this close to Stiles, he feels the beginning stirrings of love, just the way Talia told him it would happen.

He's not sure he's ready for everything 'love' means, or for what it entails, but he guesses it's too late to worry about being ready.


	14. Chapter 14

Cora is preoccupied. Stiles has gone into work, and so her attention is split between him and Peter. It was decided (not by her, but she agrees) that Peter should stay 'home'. 

A home base isn't something they've had for a while. It's not like home used to be, not like Talia's house with all its various tech gadgets making it easier for Cora to have a presence, but it's a place she can be without hiding.

She can say, "Good morning," when Claudia gets up and goes downstairs. And Claudia doesn't startle, she just smiles and says it back.

Cora can't fix coffee for her, but Peter's there and he can. Claudia takes the cup and smiles. 

"How did you know how I like it?" she asks Peter.

"We guessed," Cora says. Peter has borrowed Stiles's Bluetooth speaker and it's sitting on the kitchen counter so Cora can speak easily. She needs microphones to pick up what's being said, and maybe someone will fix that for her in time, but for now she's getting everything through her web link. Using Peter's microphones. Or ears, as he would say.

"You had this creamer in the fridge, and Stiles didn't use it this morning, so we figured it was yours," Peter tells Claudia. He's smiling, being charming, and Cora gently nudges him to tone it down. This isn't just anyone. He can be himself with her, Cora thinks.

Claudia nods, not looking up from the mug until half of the liquid is gone.

Cora uses Peter's eyes to read what the mug says. _I get Psyched for Psychology_ it reads, with an inaccurate but colorful depiction of a brain. There's a chip on the bottom rim of the cup. It's been around for a while.

"I like your coffee cup," Cora says hesitantly. "Is that because you used to be a counselor?"

Claudia nods. "It's old. I should probably throw it away." She takes another sip and sighs. "My husband bought it for me a long time ago."

After everything Cora's learned about John Stilinski, it's confusing that Claudia has held onto the cup. Cora understands sentiment, but in this case, it seems wrong. 

"I saw it in the back of the cabinet," Peter says, and Cora realizes he's apologizing. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's just a cup," Claudia says. "But it reminds me of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Peter nods and looks at her thoughtfully. Claudia sighs again and rubs her temple. "First, I could use a pill or two, though."

She gets up and opens a cabinet over the fridge. There are bottles in there, and she says, "We started keeping the medicines out of reach here when Stiles was a baby, and it just sort of stuck." She grabs a green prescription bottle and dry swallows one of the pills she retrieves.

Cora likes how Claudia explains things to them like she understands their need for more data. Most people wouldn't explain why the pills are in the place they are. Claudia, Cora is learning, is not 'most people'.

Claudia sits back down at the kitchen table. Peter looks at her, and through him, Cora can see her clearly. She's in her late forties but doesn't have a lot of gray hair yet. It's just barely there at her temples. Most of her hair is brown, and it's pulled back into a ponytail. She has laugh lines at the corners of her eyes, that remind Cora of Talia. Claudia's eyes are the same color as Stiles's, a light brown that looks almost amber in the morning sun.

Peter and Cora wait patiently to hear what she wants to say, but they don't have to wait long.

"We need to protect Stiles," Claudia says. "He's stealing tech from HaleCorp for me. He's stolen _you_. I don't think he understands just how much trouble he could get into."

"I think he does understand," Peter says. "He just believes your life is well worth the risk. He's right."

Claudia's lips tighten."If they look into his family, it won't take them long to realize I should've died years ago. That my recovery wasn't just a miracle." She sighs and sits back, still fiddling with her now-empty mug. "I can't help him if I'm in prison."

"We'll protect him," Peter says, and Cora echoes that thought exactly.

Claudia frowns. "That's a nice thought. But if you're taken in too, given back to Laura Hale or HaleCorp or whoever has the rights to… to you, then you can't do anything, either."

Cora doesn't know what to say, but it's obvious Claudia has thought about this, and she has a plan, or at least an idea. So they stay quiet and wait her out.

"I'm going to contact my husband," she says. Her voice wavers a little, but she looks adamant. "He can vouch for Stiles, pull strings, lie if he has to."

"Lie about what, exactly?" Peter asks carefully. 

"Well, first, we need to make sure no one finds out about Stiles's gift. So... he had nothing to do with my surgery." She bites her lip and looks more like Stiles at that moment than she ever has. "It's believable since he was eleven when I had my first one. I'd… I want to protect Dr. Deaton too if I can."

"You can say you went out of the country for the surgery," Cora suggests. "I can make a false trail. Records of flights to… somewhere. Germany, maybe."

"That's a good idea," Peter says. He's frowning, and along the link, Cora can feel his processors whirring fast. 

"And I'll tell anyone who asks that Stiles was too young to understand what I was doing was wrong," Claudia says with a nod. "He can't be blamed for his parents' crimes, right?"

"How do we explain my rescue if it comes out?" Peter asks.

"It's not going to come out," Claudia says. "He's just going to have to get you out of there with Laura Hale's permission."

"How?" Peter asks.

"I don't know yet. I have to think about that one."

"Lydia might be able to help," Cora says hesitantly. "She already suspects that Stiles is working on an illegal cyborg but she hasn't told anyone. She has him helping her with another project, and I think she'll be more inclined to help once that's done."

"Lydia... Martin?" Claudia asks. "Stiles's boss?"

"She's a cyborg too, but her modifications are legal. Lungs."

"Still, she might be sympathetic," Claudia says thoughtfully.

"What are you going to tell Stiles's father?" Peter asks.

"That it's about time he stepped up and did something for his son," Claudia says bitterly. "He may not want anything to do with _me_ , but I know he loves Stiles."

"Do you want me to talk to him?" Peter asks. Cora thinks he'd like that because sometimes Peter likes to threaten and scare people who've hurt the ones he loves. He threatened an ex of Laura's once just because he made her cry.

Claudia looks at him. "What would you say that I can't?"

"It's not so much that I can do a better job," Peter says. "But if you don't have to talk to him, you shouldn't have to. Not after everything."

"He's still my husband," Claudia says. "He never filed for divorce. That… that means something, right?"

Personally, Cora thinks the man is a coward and a bigot and… and a big jerk. Peter silently agrees.

"But won't it hurt you to talk to him?" Cora asks quietly.

Claudia looks away, her lips tight. "Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do. It's part of being an adult. Or in my case, a mother."

"Well. We're here for you," Cora says.

Peter nods. "And if he's an ass to you, I'll track him down and punch his face in."

Claudia laughs. It's a watery, thin thing, but it's a laugh.

* * *

When Stiles gets to work, everyone is quietly buzzing about something. Stiles doesn't know what, so he asks the first person he sees and has an acquaintanceship with.

It happens to be Erica. She looks upset, and the _wrongness_ he sensed coming from her is even more pronounced today. She steps away from Boyd's desk and takes Stiles into a meeting room. 

"There's a law in the process of being passed," she says slowly. Her eyes look wet. "Because… because androids have become more and more… 'lifelike'. They're going to pass this law that androids have to wear an identifier."

Stiles purses his lips. There have been rumblings of this in the past. He's even heard certain right-wing politicians suggest cyborgs be clearly identified as such, too. Of course, the reasons are always 'good', like so doctors know immediately in an emergency that they may not be working with regular, human organs. But most people know what it means really, that it would make bigots spot cyborgs and androids more efficiently, that it would cause more harm than good.

"It got past the House?" Stiles asks. Which yeah, that's what it would mean. He takes Erica's hand in an attempt to comfort her.

Erica nods and sniffles. There's a slight knock on the door and Boyd peeks in. He sees Erica's tears and looks worried. 

"You okay? Can I come in?"

Erica looks miserable.

Stiles whispers before Boyd gets close enough to hear, "Does he know?"

Erica's eyes widen. "How do _you_ know?"

Now it's time for Stiles to be surprised. Right, he's not supposed to. 

Boyd frowns at him. "Is there a problem?"

"So you do know?" Stiles asks Boyd. It's a rhetorical question because it seems he does know, and he hopes it works. He's generally good at deflection, but with Boyd scrutinizing him, he feels like a bug under a microscope.

"I don't feel so good," Erica says, and the wrongness is growing, centering around her internal processors. There's what feels like a misfiring of energy, and then Erica is falling and flailing. Stiles barely catches her. 

"Whoa," Stiles says.

"Put her down on the floor," Boyd says, quickly moving a chair away from Erica's arm right before it might have crashed into it. If Erica was human, Stiles would say she was having a seizure. 

Stiles doesn't know much about seizures, but Boyd knows just what to do. He pulls Erica over onto her side and bunches up his security jacket under her head. 

And still, the flailing and jerking continue. Stiles focuses on where the problem is coming from. As soon as he does, he can see what's wrong. He can fix this, but it means outing himself. He can fix this, and Erica's pain center is lighting up in his mind, and she's hurting. Her eyes are wide with fear. 

"Get back," Stiles tells Boyd, and there must be something in his voice or eyes that makes Boyd obey without question, even though he's obviously worried. 

Erica makes a grunting noise, and her hands clasp like she's trying to hold herself together. Stiles puts his hands on her head and orders the electronic glitch to stop misfiring. Then he finds the fault, a poorly connected circuit, and fixes it with nothing but his magic. 

He doesn't know what he must look like, but Erica has stopped seizing. That's what's important.

He opens his eyes and pulls his hands away. Erica is looking up at him with a kind of puzzled awe.

He slowly turns his head to face Boyd. "I can explain."

"Your eyes glowed," Boyd says flatly. "There's only so many things that can mean." 

Maybe he should let Boyd believe what he wants. But glowing eyes would be an illegal cyborg kind of thing, which might get him in more trouble than being what he is. That is if he can convince them to stay quiet.

"I felt it," Erica whispers. Her smile is shaky at first, but then it grows. "I know what it was."

Boyd frowns. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing bad!" Stiles says. He doesn't know if he can trust them, but it's a little too late to worry about that.

"I've heard about this," Erica says in a hushed voice. "You knew from the beginning that I was a bot, didn't you?"

Stiles nods slowly.

"How?" Boyd asks.

He decides to go for broke. "I could feel it."

"Technomancer," Erica says.

Stiles frowns. Boyd looks incredulous. Erica goes on, a smile starting to show on her face again.

"Some of us talk. We've seen things, code, and viruses and just… little things with no other explanation. They add up."

"Are you saying you believe in magic?" Boyd asks her.

"You saw it, didn't you?" Erica says. "He fixed me. That was a bad one, I felt it coming, and I couldn't get a grip on the electrical malfunction. He fixed it just like that, and he didn't even have to open me up to get to my components."

"I saw his eyes and hands glow," Boyd says. "He could be a cyborg. You could've stopped shaking on your own."

Erica smiles at him fondly. "Yeah, okay, Mr. Skeptical. How do you explain me feeling his magic in my head?"

"Look, I don't care if you believe in it or not, Boyd," Stiles says. "As long as you don't tell anyone. This is... it's kind of a big secret."

Erica nods. Then she bites her lip. "The fault, the misfiring of my circuits… that's what it was, right? Is it going to happen again?"

"I fixed it," Stiles tells her. "But you should still get a new diagnostic. Just in case I missed something. I don't think I did, but sometimes there's an underlying cause, like degradation…" He instantly thinks of his mother.

Boyd looks at Erica. "You sure about this?" She nods, so he turns back to Stiles. "Alright, I won't tell anybody. I guess you took a big risk to help Erica, and we owe you for that."

Erica smiles. "We?"

"Well, we're friends, aren't we?" Boyd says. "We're a team."

Erica sighs and gets up to sit down in a chair. "Just friends, huh?" She crosses her legs. 

"Well, we haven't even been on a date yet," Boyd says with a smile.

Which perks Erica up. 

"I don't think I need to be here for this," Stiles says. His phone beeps. "Shit, I'm late again. Lydia's gonna kill me."

She doesn't kill him, but when he walks into R&D with a sheepish smile on his face, she rolls her eyes and hands him a USB drive.

"What's this?" Stiles asks.

"I finished running simulations on that… theoretical implant. All my findings are on there, along with the updated model file." Lydia says it flippantly, but the look in her eyes is intense. Knowing.

"Thank you," he says, as heartfelt as he can.

She purses her lips. "Now get to work on the nanotech you were talking about the other day. I've given you access to HaleCorps files on nanites. Don't make me regret this." She also hands him some paperwork. "And get this to HR ASAP."

Stiles frowns at the papers. "What is it?"

"Just fill it out so we can start giving you a paycheck."

"I'm just an intern… And I don't exactly have a degree yet."

"You know more than half the idiots making six figures here," Lydia says. "I can't promise you that much since you're still technically entry-level, but it'll be enough to pay the rent and maybe buy a new set of brake pads for that _thing_ you drive."

"There's nothing wrong with Roscoe," Stiles says, a knee-jerk defense he's had since he was sixteen.

Lydia shakes her head and walks away.


	15. Chapter 15

Lydia has been fastidious with every single aspect of the 'theoretical' model. The files she gives Stiles include data from numerous tests and simulations. The model itself has been modified slightly, with every change cataloged and explained in yet another file. There are also a few email exchanges attached, back and forth interactions between Lydia and Deucalion Blackwood. The head of the medical division answered a few in-depth questions Lydia had about space within the skull for implants, about losing brain tissue without fucking up the intracranial pressure. Dr. Blackwood's answers seem rambling and disjointed at first, but on close reading actually solve numerous problems Stiles had been facing.

In the end, after Stiles has read all the accompanying notes, he feels more confident in this new implant than he ever has.

His mother is going to lose brain tissue, yes. But it's in the part of her brain, the logic center of her temporal lobe, that a computer can take over. And that's what this new implant is, in part. It's not just going to stimulate neurons and administer the proteins she needs to repair cells and prevent cell death, but actively take over the logic center. 

The model is beautiful, and it's the key to saving Claudia Stilinski's life. It will also make her into something the majority of the public is against, the thing they fear and hate when they hear about illegal cyborgs. Her actual brain is going to be a computer. Well, part of it.

There are notes on materials, and Lydia has requisitioned the right amount for him. They've already been sent down to the fabricator. All he needs to do is go down there and make the implant.

He can't right away, of course. He has other things to do, actual work Lydia has given him.

So he fills out the paperwork and takes a trip to HR to turn it in. He gets a 'Welcome to the HaleCorp Family!' packet, which details all his rights, responsibilities, and new benefits.

He has to sign a brand new privacy agreement and something that reads like he's giving his every thought to the company. The ['pre-assignment contract'](http://fortune.com/2013/12/06/does-your-employer-own-the-entire-contents-of-your-head/) in particular is hilarious. Not that it matters, he's not actually going to follow it. He's much more worried about being put in jail than being sued for intellectual copyright.

And after he's gotten over that, he heads to Medical so he can see how far they've actually gotten with nanotechnology. Which is where he meets Deuc for the first time.

"Hey, good to meet you. I'm Stiles Stilinski," Stiles says as he holds out his hand. 

Dr. Blackwood looks him up and down. Stiles gets a feeling from him, something big he can't quite put his finger on. But he's distracted. 

"Dr. Deucalion Blackwood. So, you're the genius Lydia poached before I even got a good look at you."

The head of Medical is handsome. Stiles already knows he has a predilection for older men with intelligence, but this one even has an accent that makes Stiles stop breathing for a moment. Really, the man would be the newest star of all his wet dreams if he didn't have — or at least have the promise of — a Peter. 

Dr. Blackwood smiles at him. "Call me Deuc," he practically purrs.

"You're not what I expected," Stiles blurts, and then immediately wants to melt into the floor.

Deuc still hasn't let go of his hand. Stiles looks into his eyes and that's when it hits him — Deuc is a cyborg. His eyes are mesmerizing, easy to get lost in, and one hundred percent inhuman. Stiles tilts his head and takes a step closer without thinking, just to get a better look.

"While I don't mind getting to know you better, I had a feeling you were here for something else?" Deuc says mildly.

Stiles blushes and steps back. "Right. Of course." Deuc's optical implants aren't just on the surface, they go deep, back into his brain, which is illegal. Stiles wonders who did the surgery. He also wonders if anyone else at HaleCorp has even an idea what Deuc is hiding. 

"The nanites?" Deuc reminds him when Stiles doesn't say anything else.

"Right!" Stiles says, flushing deeper. Deuc is watching him intently, which makes him feel like his body is supercharged, like he's a bot with an overactive battery.

Deuc smiles as if he knows what Stiles is thinking. He probably just assumes Stiles is developing a crush, which isn't far off, as assumptions go. Stiles is intrigued. And, let's face it, a little attracted.

The nanites are in one corner of the main lab, in a small storage cabinet, inside tiny specimen jars. 

"We can build them, of course," Deuc is saying. "We can even program them to do very simple things, like move one way or another. But anything else, because of their size, has proven impossible."

They're so small that Deuc has to show Stiles their structures under a microscope.

Stiles knows immediately how he could make them work for Lydia. A charge here, a command there, and a little magic to cover it all. He just doesn't think he could possibly do it the 'regular' way. 

"That's what we know so far," Deuc says. "But Lydia seems to think you might be able to do better."

His voice is full of skepticism. Stiles doesn't blame him.

"If I had enough time…" Stiles says, but then he remembers Lydia's deadline. He bites his lip. "Do you mind if I fabricate a few for some experiments?"

Deuc frowns. "As long as they don't leave the building. Gerard Argent would kill to get his hands on this tech."

Stiles nods and agrees. Then he says, "Do you know him? Gerard Argent?"

"Yes," Deuc says, his voice going dark and haunted. "I worked with him, once. He's ruthless and doesn't care who gets hurt in his pursuit."

"For um, scientific discovery?" Stiles asks.

Deuc scoffs. "He cares more about building his empire and his fortune. Those are his passions, not science. He'll go through anyone or anything to reach his goals."

Stiles wonders if that's what happened to Deuc's eyes, but he's not about to let on that he knows by asking.

"So you worked with Argent before you came to HaleCorp?" Stiles asks lightly.

"Talia Hale… saved me," Deuc says with a twist of his lips. "I thought I wouldn't work again. She gave me a second chance at everything."

Stiles wonders then if Talia developed Deuc's implants. If she's the one behind his eyes. They're advanced enough that only someone like Talia Hale could come up with them. Stiles makes a mental note to ask Cora about them.

"I've only heard good things about her," Stiles says quietly.

Deuc frowns. "Not many who knew her are left here. Who've you been talking to?"

Stiles shrugs, though his heart is pounding. "Just people."

"Hmm," Deuc says. Stiles is afraid he'll ask more specifically, but he doesn't. Instead, he says, "The world doesn't know what they lost when she died."

"I wish I could've met her," Stiles says earnestly. He looks back down through the microscope. The nanites hold so much potential. If only he could harness that in a way others would understand, in a way that could be replicated by regular scientists and doctors. "These little guys could be the way forward."

"Good luck with that," Deuc says. "I've been trying for years."

"Maybe you just need some fresh eyes," Stiles says, looking up again and meeting Deuc's gaze. He notes his unintended pun after he's already made it. 

Deuc smirks. It wasn't lost on him, though he says nothing to that effect. He looks skeptical at the topic, though, even though he nods. "We'll just have to see." Making a pun of his own, probably for himself, thinking Stiles doesn't get it. 

Stiles has to turn his head to hide his smile. Deuc's sense of humor is surprising.

* * *

"What did you think of Deucalion?" Lydia asks later, near the end of the workday.

"Nothing like I expected," Stiles says truthfully.

"He can be difficult," Lydia says and looks as if she'll say more. She drops that subject, though. "Did you get to study the nanites?"

"I took a look, but I'm going to fabricate some to study more in depth," Stiles says. "It may be hard to program them now, but if I could come up with a new way, maybe develop a new technique, we could change that."

Lydia doesn't dismiss him out of hand. She frowns and tilts her head, studying him. "Do you actually think that's possible?"

"With technology, anything is possible," Stiles says, smiling at her. "It's just a matter of time."

"Hmm. Unfortunately, you may be looking at a timetable of decades, rather than weeks," Lydia says. She looks around quickly, prompting Stiles to do the same. There's no one else around. "But I need a solution to the filtration problem. Don't forget the deadline I gave you."

"Is anyone else working on the lungs?" Stiles asks.

"Deuc is," Lydia says. Which means he knows. But being a cyborg himself, he'd be more sympathetic. 

"Anyone here would be thrilled to help you, I think," Stiles says. "You don't have to tell them what it's for."

Lydia's head swings around quickly and she narrows her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Stiles slowly raises his hands in defense. "Calm down. I guessed, okay?"

Lydia nods slowly and gives him a smile that actually chills him. "Well, I'm not the only one with a secret around here."

Stiles knows he goes pale then, but he just nods slowly.

Lydia takes pity on him and the ice thaws a bit from her eyes. She doesn't seem to know what to say next, though. It's like they're both playing a game but neither knows the rules or the final objective. They just know the game exists, and that it's dangerous.

"We both have secrets," Stiles says slowly. "I'm not going to say you can trust me, because… it's too early for that." And because it isn't true. Stiles wouldn't put Lydia's needs over his mom's. He wouldn't risk Peter or Cora for her, either. But there might come a time when he needs Lydia's help, and he may as well set the groundwork for that now. Especially when that time might come sooner rather than later.

"Stiles…" Lydia says, but then backs off on whatever it was she was going to add. "Just keep your mouth shut and be careful. Okay?"

"Yeah."

Lydia nods. "I'm going. Have a good night."

He watches her go and then pushes back from his desk.

"I like her so much," Cora sighs in his ear. "Now, I know you have a lot going on with the implant and the nanites and all, but… my servers?"

Stiles sighs. "I haven't forgotten. They're just really big and it's not like I can just plug them up and get you going again. There's some severe damage to them. I'm going to have to get someone to help."

"Peter can-"

"Peter's not coming back here if I can help it," Stiles says sharply.

Cora goes quiet for a moment. Then she says, "You're almost as protective as he is. You make a good match."

Stiles flushes. He packs up his things and heads to the fabricator. "We're not really a match… yet."

"Oh, I think you are. He's crazy about you."

"Or he's just crazy," Stiles mutters.

"You're deflecting with a poor attempt at humor," Cora says. "Why is it so hard to admit you like him? That you're already practically in a relationship with him?"

"We haven't really talked about it," Stiles says. "Maybe I'm just the first person he's seen in six years of being utterly alone."

"It's much more than that," Cora says. "And putting it down to that does him a disservice."

There's a noise behind him and then a voice says, "You're here late."

"Erica!" Stiles says, nearly jumping out of his skin at her sudden appearance. Then he remembers what she looked like the last time he saw her. "Are you okay? How're you feeling?"

She smiles. "Much better, thanks to you. Who were you talking to?"

Stiles points to the earbud. "Friend of mine."

Erica nods and apparently takes that at face value. "I just wanted to tell you. Um. If there's anything you need, anything, Just name it."

Stiles swallows. "I'll tell you. If I think of something."

"Good," she says. "Boyd feels the same way, too."

"Is it hard, being in a relationship with a human?" Stiles wants to know.

"It's frustrating," Erica says immediately. "He forgets I'm not human a lot. He thinks that's a compliment."

Stiles nods. "Can you… elaborate on that?"

"I want him to care about me, all of me, not just... in spite of the fact that I'm a bot."

"I think he does," Stiles tries to tell her.

"Being an android is my identity. Not my whole identity, but… it matters to me. It's who I _am_." Erica looks away. She sighs.

"Who programmed you?" Stiles asks.

"My basic template was found in Talia Hale's files here at HaleCorp after she died," Erica says. "Laura found the template and tweaked a few things so I'd be a good assistant for her."

Stiles nods. That explains a lot about Erica's personhood. "How does she treat you? Laura Hale, I mean."

Erica shrugs. "She never forgets I'm a bot. But then… I don't think she sees me as a whole person, either."

"She lets you pass. Why?" 

"It makes my job easier," Erica says. "Can you imagine the hell I'd get if everyone here knew I wasn't human?"

Stiles shakes his head, not really understanding. Cora says, "She's right. The harassment alone would be unbearable."

Erica tilts her head and frowns. "Your friend is listening to our conversation?"

"I'm sorry," Stiles says, pulling the earbud out and shoving it and its skinny cord into his pocket. "She's nosy."

"I just don't want a lot of people to know," Erica says quietly.

"I know you don't know her, but Cora's my best friend. She's kept my secret, and I'm sure she'll keep yours."

Erica nods. She looks around. "I'm sorry, you were busy, weren't you?"

"I need to fabricate some things," Stiles says honestly. "Nanites and… something I've been working on with Lydia."

"And you'd need to go home soon, too," she says. "Okay. I just wanted to say thanks, really."

"Hey," Stiles says, stopping her before she can turn and leave. "If you have any problems, anything tech-related, I can help."

"I'm doing fine right now," Erica says. "Thanks to you, I mean."

"Well, in the future. You can come to me," Stiles says awkwardly.

Erica smiles. "Thanks, Stiles. I'll keep that in mind."

She's still smiling when she walks away, her click-clicking heels sounding even more cheerful than usual.


	16. Chapter 16

Once Stiles has the implant in his possession, freshly fabricated from the best materials he could get his hands on — or rather, the best Lydia could — he calls Alan.

Surprisingly, the vet answers his phone, even though he sounds distracted. "I can't do it tonight, I've got to get out to foal a horse in the country. But tomorrow night. I can do it then."

"I'll bring her in at six?" Stiles asks.

"Sounds perfect. Can you bring it by this afternoon before I leave? I need to take a look at it."

Which makes sense. He can't expect Alan to rush into surgery without even seeing the device he'll be installing. Or _implanting_ , rather.

"And remember, Stiles… this is major surgery. There's always a risk with surgery, but this is especially-"

"Alan, I know," Stiles interrupts. The implications are breathing down his neck. His mom may not come out of this alive. But if she doesn't have the surgery, she's looking at a slow decline that can only end one way.

Stiles will be there to help, and Corey will assist, though Stiles wishes Scott was still around. He knew more about biology. Stiles knows a lot, but he's not a professional. He can't help if anything goes wrong, at least not with the biological side of things. With tech, he can work literal magic. With the actual brain itself? He can't do anything but watch others do their best.

And that's all any of them are doing — their best.

* * *

Peter is wearing the same clothes Stiles bought him. It's not like he gets sweaty, and he's meticulously neat, so the clothes are still clean. But it would be nice to have a new wardrobe from which to choose.

Which is one of the reasons why he's working with Cora to get his bank account back. Laura has access to actual billions. She won't miss a few million that doesn't even belong to her in the first place.

_Have you thought any more about talking to Derek?_ Cora asks him. _I have his number. You could just call._

Peter leans his head back on the sofa. The house is empty, but Claudia and Stiles should be home from work soon. _He'll tell Laura I've escaped._

_Maybe not. Maybe he'll be happy to hear from you._

Peter can imagine that. He and Derek were reasonably close before the fire. Still, time changes people. Maybe Derek doesn't think of him the same way anymore. 

_You don't have to tell him how you got out. Or where you are._

Peter sighs. He doesn't need to sigh, but he does love the dramatic gestures his body is capable of. Loves to roll his eyes or give amused huffs, or slightly put-upon noises. He uses them a lot with Cora, and she's picked up on them and uses them herself. 

_But if Laura finds out, somehow it will come back to Stiles's doorstep, and we don't want that._

Cora hums. _Hmm. You're very protective of Stiles._

_Is there a reason I shouldn't be?_ Peter asks, feeling suddenly very defensive. _He saved me. He saved **you**. At great risk to himself, don't forget._

_He's pretty protective of you, too._ Cora says it like it's a given. 

But Peter is stunned. He's not used to people caring about what happens to him. Talia had, of course. She treated him like a slightly younger brother. But Stiles doesn't… they haven't had much time together, and already there's an emotional component Peter never expected. Stiles continually surprises him.

Cora has already changed the subject. _Today at work, he revealed himself to two people. I think they'll keep his secret, but the more people know, the more dangerous it is to him, I believe._

Peter stiffens. "Who?" he asks aloud.

"Erica and Boyd."

Peter frowns. "Isn't Boyd head of security?"

"Close enough, he's right under the head," Cora says. Peter only now realizes she's speaking aloud to match him.

"That's…" _Dangerous._

"He knows."

"What the hell was he thinking?" Peter asks. "And who's Erica?"

"You'll like her," Cora says. "She's a lot like you. She's an android, based off one of Mom's templates. Laura tweaked her personality and skill set, from what I can tell. She works as Laura's assistant."

"If she's based on Talia's templates, there's more to her." Peter is thinking out loud, but he knows Cora will be able to understand. "Talia didn't make a lot of us, because I told her having full sentience was a double-edged sword. We're people, but we don't have the luxury of being treated like we are."

"I know," Cora says quietly.

The front door opens, and Claudia frowns when she sees him. At the moment, there's no recognition in her eyes. 

"Hello, Claudia," Peter says lightly, not wanting to spook her. She looks as if she's ready to bolt. "We're just waiting for Stiles to get home, now. How was work?"

Claudia blinks. Looks around the room. She's anxious, Peter can tell, but he's not sure how to help her. "Are you one of John's friends?" she asks.

_I already called Stiles,_ Cora says. _He's on his way. He says to try to keep her calm. That she might start acting irrationally._

Bots who run into problems with their code sometimes respond well to simple commands, things they can do without testing their limits. Peter keeps that in mind when he asks, "Could I get a glass of water, Claudia?"

Sure enough, Claudia's eyes clear. She nods and puts her bag down. "Of course. I didn't catch your name, my memory isn't so good lately," she says with a light laugh.

"Peter Hale," he answers smoothly.

She nods and heads to the kitchen. "Do you want ice?"

Another step, something she can control, might be good for her. So Peter says, "That would be lovely. I'm a little warm."

"Yes, it's… it's hot outside," Claudia tells him. Peter listens as she gets a glass from the cabinet.

_She does this sometimes_ , Cora whispers in his head. _She'll be okay._

By the time Stiles gets home, Claudia is calm, but she still thinks Peter is a friend of her husband. When she sees her son, she frowns again and says hesitantly, "I'm sorry, I don't. I don't remember-"

The look on Stiles's face can only be described as shattered. His voice is broken and soft. "That's okay. My memory is… well, it's shit sometimes, too. It's the ADHD, I think."

Claudia licks her lips and looks from Stiles to Peter. "My son, he... he has…"

Stiles gives her a kind smile, even though his eyes are full of sadness. "I know."

"Where's John?" she asks, her lower lip trembling.

"He's at work. Are you hungry? Want me to make dinner?" Stiles asks.

"I think…" Claudia trails off and looks around. Her eyes land on a picture, and Peter sees it's one of her and Stiles, arms around each other, smiling at the camera. She looks back to Stiles. "I'm sorry, what's your name?"

The anguish on Stiles's face makes Peter's programming work overtime. He's struggling not to go to him, to give him a hug and a shoulder to cry on.

Before Stiles can answer, Claudia shakes her head. "I think I need some rest."

"Go upstairs and lie down," Peter tells her. "Try to sleep."

Claudia frowns, but she nods. "Yes, I think I'll do that. Thank you, Peter."

"Do you need help?" Stiles asks, but Claudia is already making her way up the stairs. She waves over her shoulder but doesn't say anything more. Peter listens to her take her shoes off, and then there's a squeak of mattress springs. 

"She's lying down," Peter tells Stiles.

Stiles is standing there, his hands hanging limply at his sides. He looks so defeated for a moment, then picks his head up. "She's getting the surgery tomorrow night. So. She'll get better. She'll probably be fine when she wakes up, anyway. This is just… sometimes, at the end of a long day, she gets like this."

"Come here," Peter says, holding out his arms.

Stiles hesitates. "I'm okay."

"You clearly aren't. And you aren't alone. Come here," Peter repeats, and this time Stiles moves.

He's solid and warm and a little shaky, but that's okay. Peter holds him and Stiles sniffles.

And Stiles must feel like it's safe to do so because then he falls apart. He cries. It's quiet at first, but then it turns into huge, wracking sobs. 

Peter knows this is about more than just Claudia's memory. Stiles has been under an excessive amount of stress lately as he takes care of everyone else's problems, and he hasn't had time to just worry about himself and his own emotions.

So Peter holds him and lets him sob. And by the time it's over, Stiles is half asleep, still in Peter's arms. 

Peter leads him over to the sofa. "Here, sweetheart. Sit down. You've had a long day."

"Trying not to drown," Stiles mumbles tiredly. Peter doesn't understand exactly what he means, exactly, but he gets the underlying feeling. 

"I won't let you, darling," Peter says. "I've got you."

Stiles lets out a little sob, or maybe it's a laugh. Either way, he turns his face back into Peter's chest, and Peter tightens his arms around him.

Stiles is extraordinary. His heart is as powerful as his magic, and Peter wants to give him the entire world. Right now, if holding the boy is all he can do, he'll do it gladly.

He expects Stiles to drop off right away, but he starts talking. 

"Showed the implant to Alan. He says it'll work," Stiles says. "But there are so many risks…"

"Between the two of you, I'm sure the surgery will go well. Your mother will be fine," Peter says.

"That's… just saying it won't make it come true," Stiles mutters, and turns his head to look at Peter.

His face is a mess from crying, but Peter thinks he's beautiful. He smiles at him and kisses his forehead. "Affirmations, visualizations, positive thinking, that kind of thing works."

"You sound like Mom when she's on her psych bullshit," Stiles says, but he doesn't sound upset or dismissive. "It's all witchcraft."

Peter's well versed in different paths and religions. It's an interest he took on his own and Talia urged him to explore. "Well, you could look at it like that. An affirmation is just a step away from an incantation. And we already know magic is real, so maybe there's something to that, hmm?"

Stiles blinks at him owlishly, then breaks into a big smile. "You really are something else."

Peter raises his eyebrows.

"You are. You're… amazing."

"For an android?" Peter asks.

"As a person," Stiles corrects.

"How do you feel now?" Peter asks, brusquely pushing away the way he reacts to what Stiles just said.

Stiles frowns. "Better. Tired, but… I want to talk to you about something that happened today."

Peter runs a gentle hand through Stiles's hair. "Cora told me you outed yourself to a couple of HaleCorp employees."

"Did she tell you why?" Stiles asks.

Peter shakes his head. "I assume it was a matter of life or death."

Stiles bites his lip and looks guilty. "Well…"

"You have to be careful," Peter says softly. _I can't lose him_ , he realizes.

Thankfully, Cora is quiet and doesn't intrude on the moment. He can feel her there, though, hovering around the link as silent support.

Stiles sits up and pushes away from the sofa. "I'll be right back, tell you in a minute."

He disappears upstairs, but Peter can hear a rustle and a sigh from Claudia's bedroom. Stiles is probably putting a blanket over her, checking on her. He doesn't hear any words.

Stiles comes back down. "She's sleeping."

"Will she be okay when she wakes up?" Peter asks.

"She usually is," Stiles says. "She… before the implant, when it was bad, sometimes it didn't get better. Sometimes she would just scream at me. The only one who could calm her down was Dad."

"Do you wish he was here?" Peter asks.

Stiles's eyes go hard. There are edges to his words when he says, "No. He's the last thing she needs right now."

Peter nods, and for a moment wishes he could go after the man who broke this family apart. They've pieced themselves back together, bit by bit, but the scars remain. Peter wants the man responsible to _hurt_.

"Wow, scary face. You okay there, murderbot?" Stiles says with a worried look on his face.

"Murderbot?" It's enough to drag him away from his thoughts and huff a laugh. "Where did that come from?"

"There's a series… and you just looked like you were ready to kill somebody."

"Yes. Your father," Peter says.

Stiles's lips twist. "Can't say I haven't fantasized about it. But he's not worth the prison time."

"We're smart enough not to get caught," Peter points out with a smirk.

"I hope you're kidding," Stiles says, and the laughter in his voice is enough to make Peter relax. His boy is feeling better. "Tempting, but we've got enough to worry about without bringing murder into it." He sits down beside Peter. Their thighs press together, and Peter likes it. Would like more, if the moment comes.

"You were going to tell me about Erica and Boyd," Peter says. 

"Right!" Stiles leans back and sighs. "Okay, so Erica… she's an android, did I tell you that? She works for Laura."

"Cora told me that much," Peter says. "What happened today?"

"She malfunctioned. It was hurting her. It was like… like a seizure. Something in her head misfired and caused this… it was bad, and I could help."

"Or you could have called Laura in to take care of her bot and left it at that," Peter says.

"She was _in pain_."

Peter can see it easily. Stiles could help, so he did. Even if it meant revealing his powers.

"You have to be careful, sweetheart," Peter says quietly. "One misstep and-"

"And I lose my mom, and you, and Cora, and get sent to a lab somewhere to be experimented on. Jesus fuck, Peter, I know this." He rubs a hand over his face. "I couldn't let her keep on like that. It was awful."

"Okay," Peter says. He puts his hand over Stiles's hand, and Stiles immediately holds on tight.

"Sometimes the risk is high, but you still have to do something," Stiles says, sounding less frustrated and more like he just needs to say this.

It makes Peter think of Derek. The risk in contacting him is high. But is it worth it? He could have more of his family back. Or Laura could find out, incapacitate him, and drag him back to storage. 

"Stiles?" Peter asks tentatively. "Do you think you can… there are protocols in place. Certain things Laura could do to me. Commands and…" He trails off for a moment. 

"Yeah?"

"I don't want her to have that kind of power over me," Peter says. "I feigned a shutdown once, but I don't think she would give me a choice if she wants me deactivated again."

"Shit," Stiles says. "Yeah. Um. I'll need Cora's help, but I think I can help. Definitely."

"I need to be able to protect you," Peter says.

Stiles frowns. "You need to be able to protect yourself, too. Don't worry about me."

But Peter shakes his head. "We don't know what's going to happen."

Stiles pulls him close and kisses him lightly. "I will do everything in my power to make sure you're as autonomous as possible."

Peter frames Stiles's face with his hands. Looks into the eyes of this bright, big-hearted boy who's stolen his heart. "You are a miracle to me."

Stiles flushes but gives him a little smile. "You're pretty miraculous yourself."

They kiss again, but this time it's much messier. Peter doesn't care. He wants to pull Stiles into him, wants to bury himself inside him. He wants sex, and love, and everything in between. He wants _Stiles_ , all his cleverness and power, all his compassion and desire. Peter's never felt like this, not for anyone. He has no experience to compare this to.

Stiles moans, and Peter swallows it down. Then he softens the kiss because he doubts Claudia will be impressed if she found a bot fucking her son on their family couch.

The doorbell rings just as Peter is about to suggest they take themselves to Stiles's bed.

Stiles groans, but he gets up. His hair is sticking up, and his lips are swollen. His eyes are dark. Peter smirks when the FedEx deliverer blinks at his appearance.

"A package?" Stiles asks as he takes the box. It's about medium-sized. "To me, from HaleCorp. Peter, do you know anything about this? Or is Lydia sending me work to do at home, now?"

Stiles closes the front door, still frowning at the box.

"It's Peter's new hardware," Cora says over the sound system. "I ordered it for him. Have fun installing it! But please don't expect me to help."

Stiles is frowning, and Peter's happy he doesn't have a sense of shame.

"Hardware?" The furrow between Stiles's brows is cute.

"Go ahead and open it," Peter says, smirking.

Stiles does. There are packages within packages, but once he gets the main piece of equipment out, he turns beet red. "Oh."

"Only the best for you."

"For _me_?" Stiles squeaks.

"Well, you'll be the one benefitting."

Something glints in Stiles's eyes. "Well, yeah. But I'll make sure you've got all the right connections." He focuses on the tech, and his eyes glow a bit with magic. "Yeah, I'll make sure you feel good, too." His smile is a promise and a threat all at once. 

Peter can't wait.


	17. Chapter 17

The next day, Stiles calls in sick. He's much too worried about the surgery to be any good to anyone. At work, he'd be constantly distracted, and wouldn't be able to tell anyone why.

At home, Peter is doing his best to keep him occupied. "So what do you want to work on first, software or hardware?"

"Your coding is more important," Stiles says. "And it'll take longer, I think. The hardware is a simple installation." He manages to say it with a straight face, without blushing. He doesn't know how he'll get through the actual installation, though. Not without exploding from embarrassment.

Peter nods and has a seat. "Cora and you should get started, then."

It seems simple enough — rewrite Peter's code so that he's completely autonomous. But there's no telling how much backup code is in there to make sure that doesn't happen. There might even be traps. Which is why Stiles needs Cora's expertise, in case they accidentally trigger a shutdown.

"I know enough about Mom's coding quirks to do this. Don't worry," Cora assures them. 

Peter is made of almost uncountable lines of code. Messing with it is dangerous. Stiles decides, in the middle of the job, that he'd much rather be installing Peter's new dick. This is like poking your fingers around in someone's brain and hoping you don't accidentally poke in the wrong place and…

Okay, no, it's not like that. It's more like…

Actually, there's no metaphor Stiles can think of at the moment. 

"Are you okay, Stiles?" Cora asks. "You're frowning."

"The lines keep changing," Stiles mutters. "He's thinking and it's making it harder to find the command codes."

"What, you want me to stop thinking?" Peter says incredulously.

"Something like that," Stiles mutters. "Okay, new plan. I'm thinking I should put you to sleep for this."

Cora agrees that it's the best option.

Stiles looks at Peter. "It will take a lot less time that way, but it's up to you."

Peter sighs. "I suppose."

Stiles smiles slightly. "And maybe while you're sleeping, I can go ahead and install the new hardware?"

"And I was so looking forward to being awake for that," Peter says, but it's clear he's teasing.

Stiles lets out a breath of relief. "Alright. Let's do this in my room, then. The bed is more comfortable than the couch."

"You're just trying to get me into your bed," Peter says with a smirk.

Cora sighs loudly. "Just go upstairs and stop being gross."

"I'm gonna check on Mom first," Stiles says. "Go on ahead and get comfortable, I'll be right there."

It's still relatively early in the morning, but Claudia is usually awake by now. Stiles holds his breath as he quietly opens her door to look in on her. She stirs and turns her head toward him.

She blinks her eyes open, then frowns. "Stiles?" She glances at her alarm clock. "Shit, I'm late."

"I called in for you," Stiles says softly.

She rubs a hand over her face before turning back to him and smiling wanly. "Thank you. What happened?"

"You had a bad night," Stiles says quietly.

"How bad?" she asks with a frown. "It's fuzzy."

"You didn't know me," he tells her, willing his voice not to break.

"Oh, honey," she says, and sits up. "Come here." He ends up sitting on the side of her bed and she wraps her arms around him. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," Stiles says. "And I don't ever, ever blame you."

"I can't imagine what that's like," she murmurs, and tightens her hug. "Thank you for making sure I was safe."

"Peter helped," Stiles says.

She laughs softly, sadly. "Sounds like he's a good'un."

Stiles smiles to himself. He feels suddenly shy talking to his mom about Peter, but he says, "Yeah. He is." He pulls back and looks her in the eye. He only then notices that she's crying. "It's okay, Mom. You get the new implant tonight."

"So soon?" she says. "Well. I guess that's good."

He searches her eyes. "It's okay to be scared."

"This one is more extensive, isn't it?" she says.

"It is. You need more than the current one can do."

Claudia bites her lip. "I guess I'm worried that I won't be human. That what John said is right." She whispers the latter sentence, so soft Stiles has to strain to hear her. But he does, and it brings up so many buried emotions that he doesn't know what to do with.

"He was never right about this," Stiles says. "It doesn't matter. You're my mom. You could have a whole new cybernetic brain and you'd still be my mom, and you'd still be a person, and I'd still love you completely."

"I'm scared," she says, and tears spill out of her eyes.

"It's… you don't have to get the surgery," Stiles says slowly. He hates to say it, wants to demand she get the new implant, but this is her body, her brain. It's her decision. "You could just let me keep repairing the damage on the current one. You wouldn't have a lot more time, but. You could. It's your choice."

She's already shaking her head. "I can't do that to you." She takes a deep, shaky breath. "Or myself. I do want to live, honey. I'm just worried."

"That's natural," Stiles says, swallowing. "It's brain surgery. Of course you're worried."

She gives him a weak smile. "And then there's the part where my logic center will be taken over by a computer."

"Think of all the sudoku you'll be able to do!" Stiles says.

Claudia laughs. "I hate sudoku."

Stiles smiles and gives her another quick hug. "It'll be okay. Between Alan and me, we'll make sure everything works out fine. You'll be fine."

"Thank you," she says. "And now… I think I'll get some more sleep. Since I don't have to go to work or anything."

"Good plan."

"I love you, honey," she says as she lies back down.

Stiles tucks the covers under her chin with a cheeky smile. "I love you too, Mom." He gets up, blows her a kiss at the door before closing it, and heads to his room. 

He has a lot of work to do.

* * *

Stiles keeps Peter asleep for the hardware installation. He would have died of embarrassment if he had to do it while Peter was _awake_.

As it is, he tries to be professional about it. Tries not to think about what Peter is going to be using his new upgrades for. But he also makes sure to connect everything that should feel good to Peter's pleasure centers. Better than good. 

But he doesn't do absolutely everything he could to make Peter's pleasure is out of this world. He doesn't want to totally incapacitate Peter every time something brushes against his cock or prostate. But, Stiles thinks to himself, he could totally use his magic during sex to make every touch phenomenal. He could just run a finger down Peter's sternum and make him shiver and pulse with want. He could bite at that delicious neck and send a jolt straight to Peter's cock. He could spend hours with him, bringing him to the edge and back over and over, until Peter could only beg. 

Stiles blinks and pulls the covers back over Peter's body. He's not thinking about that _now_. There's so much to do, and so little time. He can't get distracted.

He wakes Peter from his induced sleep and sits beside him on the bed. Peter opens his eyes and zeroes in on him. 

"I trust everything is in place?" Peter asks. His voice is mild but it still makes Stiles flush.

Stiles nods. "I can leave the room if you wanna test it out."

"You don't have to leave for that," Peter says suggestively. His hand moves under the sheet. Stiles tracks it and wonders what, exactly, Peter would want right now.

Stiles clears his throat. "I have to prepare for Mom's surgery."

"You have plenty of time," Peter purrs. The sheet moves and Stiles realizes Peter is stroking his new cock. "Don't you want to see your hard work in action?"

Stiles bites his lip. He wants to kiss Peter, wants it so bad his mouth is watering for a taste. Every fantasy of working Peter over flips suddenly, until Stiles just wants to be beneath him, kissed and touched and teased. Still… "I'm not sure I'm ready."

Peter smiles. "You don't need to do anything, sweetheart. I could just look at you."

"Just look?" Stiles asks. He's not sure if he's relieved or disappointed. He toys with the bottom of his t-shirt. "I guess it's fair. I've seen _you_ naked." He gives Peter a little smile and then pulls his shirt off over his head.

Peter's eyes suddenly go hungry and electric blue. One hand is under the sheet where Stiles can only guess what it's doing, but the other is clutching at the sheets like if Peter doesn't hold on, he'll reach out and touch. And he said he'd only look. 

Which is stupid. "You can touch me," Stiles says.

"Where?" Peter asks, and the care for total consent is sexier than Stiles would've thought it'd be.

Stiles takes Peter's hand and lifts it to the side of his neck. "Here," he whispers. The backs of Peter's fingers brush over his throat. Stiles is reminded of the first time Peter touched him there, of how scary that had been. But Peter wouldn't try to hurt him now. He's certain of that. He trusts him.

And Peter seems to be remembering that, too. He fits his fingertips around Stiles's throat, but this time the touch is so, so gentle. Stiles guides Peter's hand down. He has to close his eyes because Peter's watching him and he's not sure what he sees. Stiles feels a lot more naked than he actually is. Bare. Vulnerable.

Peter's fingertips travel over Stiles's collarbones, from one side to the other, tracing lines of what feels like pure energy now. It's almost like magic, especially when Peter slowly drags his fingers down Stiles's sternum.

Stiles doesn't have Peter's body. He's not buff or even all that defined. But Peter touches him like he's the most beautiful thing in the world, and Stiles feels his breath come faster and his heart beat stronger. 

Then there are two hands on him and Stiles's eyes fly open. "What…?"

Peter's smile is dark and full of promise. "I'd much rather touch you than myself."

"But I thought you were going to… you know?" Stiles asks. Peter's sheet is down around his waist now, putting that muscular chest and a firm six-pack on display. Stiles wants to use his mouth to touch. To taste. 

"This is much more rewarding than masturbation, darling," Peter says. "May I kiss you now?"

Stiles leans down and Peter surges up so that they meet in the middle. His kiss is hungry and demanding, at odds with the gentle way he's been touching. It lights a fire in Stiles's blood. 

"Tell me what I can have," Peter murmurs against Stiles's mouth. 

Stiles moans. At the moment he wants to give Peter everything. He doesn't remember why he said he wanted to take things slow. Peter's thermoregulator makes his skin almost searing-hot wherever they touch, and Stiles wants more. He wants that heat all over his body. Wants it over him. Stiles suddenly realizes he hasn't been touched like this in ages, and his skin is hungry, starved for it.

"Don't stop," Stiles begs, falling inelegantly to the bed and grasping at Peter, pulling him on top. Their mouths meet again and Stiles keeps begging. "More. Peter. God, you feel so good." His words are fast and slurred but Peter doesn't seem to mind.

"What do you need, sweetheart?" Peter asks. 

"Don't stop touching me." 

Peter grinds down against him and only then does Stiles realize how hard he is. His cock is straining in his jeans, throbbing in time with his heartbeat, and he whimpers when Peter's hand cups his ass and brings him up tighter against him. 

Peter groans and Stiles can feel it through his whole body. 

"Can I take these off?" Peter asks him, running a hand over Stiles's denim-clad thigh.

Stiles nods. Peter's completely naked. It's only fair, Stiles's mind supplies. "Yeah. Hurry."

"Impatient," Peter says, though he sounds delighted. 

"I need to feel you," Stiles says, and he runs his hands restlessly down Peter's back.

Peter doesn't fumble as he unzips Stiles's jeans, though he does growl his frustration when they don't come off easily. Stiles huffs and helps, making sure his blue briefs stay in place. He isn't quite ready for full nudity; as much as he wants to take this all the way, there's a part of him that remains cautious.

"You look delicious," Peter says, staring at him.

Stiles blushes. "So do something about it."

Peter smirks and leans in, kisses him. It's filthy this time, making Stiles whimper. Peter just pulls him closer and kisses him deeper. "You feel amazing," he whispers against Stiles's mouth. His fingertips follow the line of Stiles's spine and stop just short of his underwear, resting at his waist.

Stiles moans and grinds against him. Somehow they've moved to where Stiles is on top of Peter, when he very much wants their positions to be reversed. This way, though, he knows he has more control. Easier to keep things somewhat restrained. 

He realizes he's in a good position to touch Peter the way he wants. He slides down just a little and nips at Peter's neck. He smooths his hands over Peter's pecs and plucks gently at his hardened nipples. Peter smiles and no, that's not the right reaction. Stiles concentrates on the synthetic nerves, so when he touches those peaks again, Peter moans loudly and arches right into Stiles's hands.

Stiles smirks. "Good?"

" _Fuck_ ," Peter gasps. Stiles takes that as permission to use his mouth. He licks and sucks, focusing on those nerve endings with his magic and the tip of his tongue. Peter goes wild. HIs grip slides down a little to cup Stiles's ass through his underwear.

Stiles moans. How did he think he could keep this somewhat clean? His ass clenches, and it's been so long since he's been properly fucked. He could have Peter right now. 

He looks up into Peter's face and sees bright blue eyes watching him. "Remind me why we were waiting?" Stiles asks him.

Peter's hands squeeze again, but then he slides them back up to Stiles's waist. "You aren't ready."

Stiles breathes through his nose and out through his mouth. Focusing on settling down a little. Peter's right. He may be ready in this moment to get thoroughly rawed through the mattress, or maybe to ride Peter like he's a fucking mechanical bull or something, but emotionally he's not ready for what comes with it.

Sure, he could have sex without making a commitment, could try not to tangle his feelings up in the act, but he knows himself too well to think that would work well for either of them in the long run.

He nods and sighs, resting his head on Peter's chest. He's got a lot going on. He's juggling about ten different things at the moment, and he can't complicate things, at least not until he gets at least one big worry of his mind.

"Do you mind waiting?" he murmurs, tracing a line across Peter's collarbone. "Maybe even just until tonight. I just have so much to think about and adding something new, even something great… I think it just might be too much for me right now."

Peter's hands slide up from 'I want to fuck you slowly into next week' territory into 'let me hold you and reassure you' in the space of just a few inches. He hugs Stiles to him, and even though they're both mostly undressed and hard enough to hammer nails, Stiles finds it soothing. He's comforted, and Peter runs a hand through his hair with a soft shushing sound.

"Darling, I can wait as long as you need," Peter says. He tilts Stiles's face up with a gentle touch. "Look at me." The burning blue is gone, replaced by a very human expression of understanding. 

"You sure?" Stiles asks. He feels guilty. Like maybe he wound Peter up unnecessarily and now he's leaving him high and dry. But Peter doesn't look upset.

"I wouldn't lie about this," Peter says with a smile. "Of course I want to get you on my cock, but I can wait. I know how much you have on your mind."

"Yeah, but sex doesn't have to be some big- I mean, I'm not opposed to casual sex, I just think me and you are… maybe not _better_ than that, but I… I want it to mean something, when we do that, and I'm not ready."

Peter's gaze softens even more. "That's perfectly understandable."

"My mom's surgery…" Stiles starts to say, but he's not sure how to finish that sentence.

Peter leans down and kisses Stiles's forehead. "Sweetheart, you don't need to say another word. I get it."

"I really, really like you," Stiles whispers.

"I'm falling in love with you more every moment of every day." Peter traces an invisible line down the side of Stiles's face, watching his reaction. 

Stiles wonders what he sees, because he's not sure how he feels. He's not shocked, exactly. Of course that's where this is going. Stiles is falling in love with Peter, too. But to hear it said out loud, without any equivocation, not even a waver in Peter's voice…

"Is that okay to say?" Peter asks, frowning a little. "Or is it too soon?"

Swallowing thickly, Stiles shakes his head. Peter keeps frowning and looking worried, so Stiles says, "No, it's fine. It's… that's how I feel too. I just. I'm not as good at… look. I don't. I _do_. I feel that. Too."

Peter's expression slowly morphs into one of happy surprise. "You do?"

Stiles nods quickly and kisses him quickly. The kiss is a little off-center and lands at the corner of Peter's mouth, but Peter doesn't seem to mind. He grins. 

"I can't believe how lucky I am," Peter says.

Stiles thinks of all the things Peter has been through and wonders how Peter can call himself 'lucky'. 

"Don't make that face. I know what I'm talking about," Peter says. "I was rescued by the one person who could. You freed me, and then when I reacted with violence you could have just locked me back up. You could have shut me down completely. But you and Cora _saved_ me. You fixed me. And then you got me out of there, and brought me into your home, and every time you look at me you see _me_ , not a machine."

"Peter," Stiles murmurs, feeling a blush overtake his face. He's not sure how to respond.

"You have so much happening, so many things more important in your life than me, and yet you still take the time to help me. You made my upgrades a priority, even though you didn't care one way or another if I had special equipment. You could have put it off, but you found time in your schedule to help me."

"I wouldn't say I don't care at all," Stiles points out with an embarrassed smile.

"You spend time with me, and you don't… you don't forget I'm not human, but at the same time you treat me like a person, too."

"Peter, you _are_ a person," Stiles says, almost exasperated.

Peter touches his cheek. "You're a beautiful being. Inside and out, you're beautiful. And I can't help falling in love with you. How could I know you and not feel this way?"

"Lots of people wouldn't," Stiles says, not even arguing but stating fact.

"You're humble and kind and smart and sarcastic, and I may want to fuck you, but more than anything I just want to _be with you_."

"You're with me, buddy," Stiles tells him. His face is flaming from all the unwarranted praise, but his heart feels like it's too big for his chest. 

He doesn't know what Peter sees in his eyes, or hears in his heartbeat, but something there makes Peter kiss him again. This time it's full on the mouth. It's not full of lust, but it's full of passion and honest to goodness _love_ that Stiles can feel in every nerve. It lights up his body like nothing ever has before.

He pulls back and looks at Peter with wide eyes. "You feel that?"

Peter's looking at him with awe. Stiles kisses him again, wondering what it is, and then he understands.

His magic is responding to his emotions somehow, and since he's kissing an android, things are going… not _haywire_ , because it feels very controlled, but at the same time, it's out of his control. He's not doing anything intentionally. He just feels good, and he knows Peter feels good, and… he doesn't know how to explain it.

"It's some kind of connection," Peter says, a few moments after they break apart again. "Almost like an open network link, except instead of data, I'm receiving some kind of emotional feedback from you."

"I didn't know I could do that." It's overwhelming and yet Stiles doesn't want it to stop. "Do you think it'll go away when we stop touching, or…?"

Peter's arms tighten around him, obviously not even wanting to try. Like he doesn't want the connection, whatever it is, to end.

Stiles looks over at his alarm clock. "Well, we can't stay like this forever."

"What if we can't get it back?" Peter asks.

Stiles touches his cheek. His chin. Runs his fingertips gently over every feature on Peter's face. "I have a feeling it'll come back. It's my magic, right? Something new. Maybe it'll go away, for a little while, but we'll find a way to get it back if that happens."

Peter doesn't say why it's so important to him, but Stiles can guess. He knows how important his link to Cora is. He's pieced together how traumatic it was to lose it during the fire. If this is something similar, it's something that eases Peter, helps him not feel so alone.

And Stiles has no experience like it, but it's almost the same for him. He's suddenly very much not alone. 

Peter looks at him and nods. He feels that. He knows what Stiles is thinking, or at least feeling. And he understands, too.

God, life is so weird. _Magic_ is so weird. Thrilling, wonderful, _awesome_ in the original meaning of the word: Stiles is absolutely _awed_.

But he has to get dressed, and they have to go to Deaton's clinic, and Stiles has to put his magic to more medical uses. He hopes he can do so while dealing with this whole new facet to his power.

"It's going to be fine," Peter assures him. 

Stiles kisses him again and smiles. Peter's devotion and utmost belief in his abilities helps him feel like it really _is_ going to be fine.


	18. Chapter 18

"Keep driving," Peter says.

Stiles looks over at him, but Peter's eyes are focused elsewhere. "What? But Deaton's is-"

Peter's voice is terse. "Don't slow down, don't look, just drive past."

In the backseat, Claudia makes a worried sound. "What's going on?"

And then Stiles sees the blue and red lights flashing in front of the animal clinic. "Oh, shit."

"Just drive," Peter says again. 

Stiles's heart is ready to beat out of his chest. "I don't know what to do."

Claudia makes a soft sound of distress.

"They can't have been there long," Peter says. 

"What do we _do_?" Stiles yells. Emotion crashes over him, overwhelming him. He's panicking, he knows. He's worried for Alan but more than that he's worried for his mom. He can't catch his breath.

Peter puts a hand on his thigh and squeezes. It manages to ground Stiles enough that he can think again. 

"Okay. Okay." He digs his phone out of his shirt pocket and hands it to Peter. "Call Corey. Wait, no, they might have him, too. Call Mason."

Peter flips through his contacts and Stiles tries desperately to focus on the road. 

"Stiles, where are we going?" Claudia asks, and his heart sinks. 

"Just a ride, Mom." He listens as Peter asks Mason where Corey is and if he's safe.

"We should stop by the station to say hi to Dad," Claudia says, and no, that's the last place Stiles wants to be. 

He takes a right at the next intersection. "We've got to figure out what's going on."

Peter pulls the phone away from his ear to speak. "Mason says Corey didn't come home from work yet, but he's not late."

The steering wheel creaks in Stiles's hands. "Okay."

He's afraid to go home. Afraid someone will be coming after _him_ next. Or worse, his mom or Peter.

"Use my phone as a hotspot so Cora knows what's going on," Stiles says.

"Will Alan say anything about you?" Peter asks.

Stiles shakes his head. "Not about me or Corey or Mom, either. They might not even have anything on him. He doesn't keep records in the clinic, only on his laptop, and I've got it set up that _no one_ can break the encryption."

"At worst, they just suspect him of something shady?" Peter asks.

Stiles nods and begins to calm down. Peter's right. They can't have anything on Alan. He's too careful. All of them are.

"I'll find out what's going on," Cora asks. Her voice sounds a little tinny over the phone speaker.

Claudia moans and clutches her head. "Where's John, I've got to- Something's wrong!"

Stiles needs to get her somewhere safe as soon as he can, but he's afraid to go home. "Cora, check the house, make sure no one's there."

Cora answers immediately with, "No, the house is fine and as far as I can tell, there's no one watching, either."

"There's a cop behind you," Peter says, looking into the side rear-view mirror.

"Fuck. Fuck," Stiles says. He checks the speedometer but he's not going over the speed limit. This is just bad luck. "Mom, it's okay. We're going home in a minute, let me just. Just figure this out."

"Leave it to me," Cora says.

Less than thirty seconds later, the squad car is pulling over and turning around, then rushing off in another direction. Stiles breathes a sigh of relief. 

"Someone must have requested assistance," Cora says smugly.

"Thank you," Stiles says, and he knows Peter is echoing him along his link with Cora.

The drive back to the house is tense. "Cora is searching police databases to see if she can figure out what's happening," Peter says at one point, but Stiles knew that already.

He's worried the most about his mom. If she doesn't get this surgery soon, she'll die. She might have less than…

She doesn't have a lot of time, anyway, and there's no way Stiles can do this himself. If Peter somehow downloaded a bunch of medical know-how into his system, he still wouldn't have the experience and instinct of someone like Deaton. Stiles has been relying on Alan being available for this, and now there's no one left. No one to trust.

If Stiles loses his mom…

He can't think like that. He can't. He's got to think of a solution.

Stiles pulls back into the driveway and parks. This is not the return home he's been envisioning.

Peter leans over and puts a careful hand on his arm. Stiles startles, not used to comfort when his mom's not at her best. He looks at Peter and sees understanding and affection. He can feel it, too, if he focuses on their nascent link.

He tries to dredge up a smile, but then Claudia moans in pain and clutches her head again.

"Alright," Stiles says. "Mom, get inside and I'll see if I can fix your headache."

When he looks back at her, there's no recognition in her eyes. He feels his stomach drop out again. He hopes she doesn't start screaming at him, like she sometimes does. He doesn't want to have to handle that right now.

Claudia lets Peter and Stiles help her upstairs. She's moaning in pain and her eyes are unfocused. 

"There's some migraine pills in the medicine cabinet," Stiles tells Peter, and then he focuses on his mom.

Stiles closes his eyes and focuses on the problem in Claudia's head. 

"It hurts," she says, and Stiles firms his jaw. 

"I know. I know it does, but I can help," he tells her.

"Where's John?" she asks, her voice small and scared now.

"He's at work," Stiles says, trying not to choke up. "Close your eyes."

Peter comes back with water and a pill while Stiles is trying to find a flaw he can actually fix. The degradation of Claudia's implant is almost too much to repair this time. The headaches aren't coming from the implant, either, but from Claudia's actual brain. He can't fix that.

Stiles wishes, not for the first time, that his gift was for healing and not fucking around with tech.

He does what he can, which isn't much. He urges his mother to take the migraine pill and then tucks her into bed. He waits until she's finally slipped into sleep before he says, "I'll fix this. I'm going to make you better."

He lets Peter lead him out of the room, even though he wants to stay and watch over his mom. There's nothing to do, though. It's out of his hands at the moment.

* * *

"The police haven't been watching Dr. Deaton for too long. Someone anonymously called in some suspicions and they were required to follow up on it," Cora relays once they are downstairs.

"How long are they going to hold him? Have they found anything yet?" Stiles asks anxiously.

"I don't have that information yet," Cora says. 

Peter wraps an arm around Stiles, not sure if he wants to be comforted or not. The emotions coming across their bond are jumbled and hard to read.

Stiles allows the embrace but he doesn't move to return it. "Nothing about Mom's condition right now is good. She's barely holding on to- Her implant is-" Stiles can't seem to finish a sentence.

"She needs that surgery," Peter says quietly.

"Yes!" Stiles says, louder than he needs to. "She needs it _now_." He slips away from Peter and starts to pace around the living room. It's not a big space, and Peter is reminded of a wild animal in a small cage.

"We need help," Cora says. "We can't do this alone."

"We can't break Deaton out; that would cause more problems than it would solve," Stiles mutters, mostly to himself. 

"Then we need another doctor," Peter says. "Someone we know can do the surgery."

"We can't just kidnap a doctor and… and force him to do it," Stiles says. "I know you've probably seen a lot of mob movies where they do just that, but this is a little different than taking a bullet out. This is fucking brain surgery. Oh fuck, what are we going to do?"

"Stiles…" Cora says hesitantly. She sends Peter a short query, but he's already thinking the same thing.

Peter steps in front of Stiles to stop his pacing. Holds him still by his shoulders and looks into his eyes. "We know someone already."

Stiles's expression changes from distressed and worried to frantically hopeful. Peter doesn't say anything to explain because he knows Stiles can work it out himself, even as distraught as he is.

And then a dawning realization comes over Stiles's face. "Deucalion Blackwood."

"Exactly, sweetheart," Peter says. 

"But we don't exactly have a lot of incentive for him to take the chance. And it's a big… it's a risk, Peter."

Peter smiles. "Dr. Blackwood's entire life is a risk. He's an illegal cyborg."

Stiles gulps. "Under normal circumstances, I would never use that against him." 

"I know you wouldn't," Peter says, and Cora echoes the words.

"But Mom might… she could _die_. Without this surgery, she will for sure."

Peter leans in and gives Stiles a tender kiss on his forehead. "Let me handle the details. I'll go see Deuc tonight, and get him prepared. We'll work out everything. All you have to do is stay here and watch over your mother."

"You're going to confront Deuc and blackmail him without backup?" Stiles asks worriedly.

Peter smiles reassuringly. "I'll have Cora."

Stiles blinks rapidly, but the tears in his eyes still fall down his cheeks. He quickly hides his face against Peter's shoulder. "Be careful."

"I will be," Peter says, holding his boy tightly. He can feel Stiles's worry, but his hope is starting to overpower the desperation for his mother's condition, at least.

"I'll watch out for him, too," Cora says, and silently to Peter she says, _You're doing the right thing. It's a risk, but worth it._

Peter gently pulls away from Stiles to look into his face. "Let me go now. The sooner I get Deucalion on our side, the better."

Stiles sets his jaw, even though he looks like he wants to collapse into a sobbing wreck. Peter can feel how thin the veneer of his toughness is, but it just inspires Peter to get this done for him faster. He doesn't know how long Stiles's strength will hold up.

Peter wishes Stiles had a friend in the know he could call. Stiles needs more support than he's getting, but Peter really has to leave.

"Try to get some rest," Peter says, and even as he says it, he knows it's futile.

Stiles gives him a wryly amused smile. "Right."

There's more to say, so much more, but Peter's unable to put his feelings into words. Instead, he gives Stiles a hard, quick kiss and pulls away again. 

Cora's already called a taxi for him, and he hears its horn blow outside. 

"That's my ride." Peter picks up Stiles's tablet so he'll have Cora's connection nearby.

Stiles doesn't repeat anything, though Peter can tell he wants to tell him to be safe again. To be careful. Peter gives him a confident smile and heads out into the night.


	19. Chapter 19

Cora is split between Stiles and Peter. It's well within her abilities to divide her attention, but she doesn't like to do it. If she's talking to Stiles, she likes to focus on him. Maybe it's a defect because there's no real explanation for how she feels. Especially when she's perfectly capable of working on more than one problem at once. 

Once she has her servers back, this will come easier to her, and perhaps her preference will change.

She thinks about her servers a lot. She knows Stiles and Peter are otherwise occupied, but she can't help it. She's missing so much. She'll be able to think much faster, get things done in record times, with her servers. But also she would like those memories back. The bad ones.

Peter hasn't mentioned it lately, but she knows he wants proof the Argents were behind Talia's death. And Cora wants those last moments. She wants to see Talia once more, even if it's possibly the worst memory Cora will ever carry.

"Okay, this is it," Peter says to the cab driver. "I've already paid you via your Cash app, and I'm willing to give you more if you circle the block a few times."

"Excuse me?" the cabbie says, taking out his phone. Cora has already transferred a hefty sum of money to the guy. He sounds confused, probably because he didn't give Peter his account name. Cora laughs to herself. Messing with humans is always fun, even under dire circumstances.

Peter is amused. "Just stay in the neighborhood. I'll give you double when you take me home." Then he gets out, tablet in hand, and saunters up to the front door of Deucalion Blackwood's house.

There are cameras and motion detectors outside the house. Cora disables them easily and slips into Dr. Blackwood's wifi network. It's password-protected, but that's nothing to Cora. She takes care of all the standby alarms just in case Dr. Blackwood gets antsy about his visitor.

Peter rings the bell. Cora knows he has this under control, but she is still worried. This is important. If they can't get this doctor on their side, Claudia will die.

* * *

Back at the house, Stiles is pacing. He leaves his mom upstairs to rest, goes down to the living room, and paces around.

"This isn't helping anyone," Cora points out.

"Nothing I do will help anyone," Stiles says. "I am… I'm completely useless. Mom's dying and…"

"You know you aren't useless," Cora says.

"There's nothing I can do! I'm helpless, here," Stiles says.

Cora's got her attention split between Peter and Stiles, and that's why she doesn't notice the phone call Claudia makes until it's over and too late. "Oh…"

"What, Cora?" Stiles asks.

"Your mother just called your father. He… I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention. I should have stopped her."

Stiles rushes upstairs. His mother is sitting up in bed, the phone beside her. "I called John. He said he'd be right home."

Cora doesn't know what to do. She wasn't paying attention, doesn't know what was said on the phone. She focuses on Stiles and realizes he's a cross between scared and pissed off.

He approaches Claudia's bed and gives her another migraine pill and some water. "Get some rest. I'll let you know when he gets here," he tells her. 

He sits beside her until she falls asleep again.

Cora doesn't know what to do. It seems she's just as helpless in this situation as Stiles is. 

She focuses back on Peter, hoping maybe she can do something for him, at least.

* * *

Peter is resolute. Determined. When he confronts Deucalion Blackwood, all he can think of is how much Stiles has done for him, and how he needs to repay that in kind. 

"We need your expertise," Peter tells him. Having the doctor focus on the concrete benefits of helping them, putting less emphasis on the blackmail aspect, is probably the right approach. "Think of the experience. And you'll be saving a life."

Dr. Blackwood sits back and stares. "Putting myself at legal risk, putting my career on the line, at the same time? This is a little less attractive than you seem to think."

"It's not as if you have much choice," Peter says with a smile. "Why not make the most of it?"

"Are you sure we haven't met before?" Dr. Blackwood — Deucalion — asks. "You seem so familiar."

Peter smiles wider. "You knew my creator quite well. We have similar ways of doing things."

Deucalion blinks. "You're an android."

Peter bows a little, theatrical and just the sort of thing Talia would have appreciated. The reminder of his creator, the woman who was mother and sister to him, still hurts. He ignores the pang. "I am. My name is Peter Hale."

"You were her bodyguard," Deucalion says.

With a bitter twist of his lips, Peter nods. "I was, amongst other things. Unfortunately, I failed when we were attacked."

Deucalion doesn't question that it was an attack. He even says, "I always suspected Gerard Argent was behind Talia's death. Not that I could prove it."

"No, he thinks he didn't leave any evidence behind," Peter says, thinking of Cora's servers.

"You're going after him," Deucalion says. His face could have been set in cold stone. "Good."

"But I need your help in the meantime," Peter says.

"And blackmail was the only approach you could think of?"

"It was the most expedient. A woman's life is on the line."

"I'd have to see the records, the specs of the implant…"

Peter prods Cora along their link, and she sends everything to the tablet sitting beside Deucalion on his table. There's a soft message beep. Peter nods at the device. "There. Everything you need."

Peter tries to be patient as Deucalion skims through the files. He watches his face, sees the dawning realization.

"This is Stiles Stilinski's work. Where did you get this?" Deucalion says.

"Where do you think?" Peter asks. "Look at the patient's name."

Deucalion swipes the screen. His eyebrows raise. "A relative."

"His mother," Peter corrects.

Deucalion nods and goes back to looking through the files. After several minutes, he puts the tablet aside. "I can't do it. Something is missing. A component or a…" He trails off, seemingly unable to put it into words. 

"Nothing's missing," Peter assures him. "You'll be working with Stiles."

He thinks he'll have to say more, to reveal Stiles's gift, or at least hint at it heavily. But Deucalion gets a faraway look in his eyes. "Stiles is a technomancer."

Peter sits across from Deucalion and leans in. "How did you leap to that conclusion?"

"It's the only way this could ever work," Deucalion says.

"But how did you even come up with magic?" Peter asks. "In your field, I would think that would be the last thing on your mind."

"It's because I've known one before. Someone who could do impossible things. Incredible things," Deucalion says. Something about him seems haunted, now. "Terrible things."

* * *

John Stilinski must have driven with his siren on to get to the house because he's there in less than forty-five minutes. 

Stiles opens the door to him and tilts up his chin. "Why did you even come?"

"Stiles," John says, looking relieved and something else Stiles doesn't recognize. "It's good to see you."

"I doubt that," Stiles tells him. He looks over his father's shoulder, sees a twitch of a curtain on the neighbor's house across the street. "Get in."

"She didn't sound good on the phone," John says as he comes in, and Stiles closes the door behind him. "What's going on?"

"Call it a relapse," Stiles says. "I'm handling it."

"She sounded scared," John says.

Stiles swallows hard. "Yeah. She's not doing too good. But we don't need you."

"John?" Claudia says from the top of the stairs. Stiles rushes up to get to her side, unsure if she's going to be steady on her feet after taking the medication. John follows as if he has the right to.

"Let's get you back to bed, okay, Mom?" Stiles says gently.

"John, what's happening?" Claudia asks, swaying a little. "I feel so confused. And I don't remember how I got here."

John swears under his breath. He looks at Stiles. "How bad is it?"

"Let's get her to bed and then we can talk," Stiles mutters. But Claudia isn't letting Stiles near her right now. "Can you, um, get her to rest?"

John's eyes widen, but he nods. "I'll do what I can."

"I really just don't remember," Claudia mumbles, shuffling back to her room, holding tight to John's arm.

Stiles hangs back but not too far back. He needs to make sure his father doesn't say anything that could set his mom off again, or hurt her, or…

He doesn't think he will, but he never thought he'd say the things he did all those years ago, either. He never thought his father would leave them.

It's weird to see John Stilinski again. Stiles has two very separate sets of memories of him. Before his mother's illness and the subsequent reveal of Stiles's powers, John had been a good father, or at least what Stiles thinks was good. He taught Stiles to fish and how to ride a bike. Spent time with Claudia and him together as a family. He wasn't a severe disciplinarian, but he wasn't a pushover, either. He understood when Stiles was diagnosed with ADHD, and they worked together as a family to make tasks and chores easier for Stiles. 

Stiles has good memories of him, but what came after soured them. Losing his dad that way made things even harder when things were indescribably bad. He got his mom in exchange, though. 

And now he's watching his mom with his dad, and it's painful. Mainly because he knows John Stilinski doesn't see the woman who loves him (still, always) as fully human. Stiles doesn't care what his father thinks of _him_. He just doesn't want his mother getting hurt again.

Once Claudia is sleeping again, John comes out of her room and pulls the door closed. He doesn't jump when he sees Stiles waiting for him, leaning against the wall outside the bedroom. Maybe he knew he was there the whole time.

"We should talk," John says.

Stiles disagrees. He doesn't think there's anything they have to talk about.

John goes into the kitchen and opens cabinets. 

"Hungry?" Stiles asks. 

John gives him a sardonic look. "Searching for a drink, to be honest."

"Mom's got a little wine in the refrigerator," Stiles says. "We don't go harder than that."

John sighs and runs a hand over his face. "Fair enough. Probably for the best."

Stiles leans against the counter. "You wanted to talk, so talk."

"I didn't realize she was this bad when she called me," John says.

"The only way she'd ask you to come is if she didn't remember what a piece of shit you are," Stiles says bluntly.

John hangs his head. Rubs his eyes. "She doesn't have much longer, does she?"

"I'm working on it," Stiles says.

"Another surgery?" John asks.

"It's none of your business," Stiles hisses, suddenly very angry again. "You took yourself out of the picture, and we don't need you here. Mom's confused right now, and you being here calms her down. But that is the only reason you're here. Once she's herself again, you are _leaving_."

"Herself?" John asks. He sounds tired and bewildered. "How can she ever be herself again?"

"Because she's a cyborg, you mean?" Stiles asks. "Fuck, you never change."

John doesn't answer. He sighs heavily, and Stiles has the urge to shake him. Or maybe punch him.

"She's never stopped loving you, no matter what you said, no matter what you think of us. And you don't even give a shit," Stiles says, tears springing to his eyes. They're hot and angry, and he swipes at them before they have a chance to fall down his face. "Why did you even come?"

"I never stopped loving her, either," John says. "But that woman in there, that's not my wife. She only barely remembers me."

"She's the same woman whether she remembers or not, whether she has a brain implant or not. That's something you never understood. She may change, but she's still Claudia. She's still my mom and your wife, still _human_."

John shakes his head, but he doesn't disagree. He frowns, obviously thinking hard. Stiles doesn't care what mental hardship he's going through. He wants to know if Peter's okay, wants to make sure he hasn't run into difficulties.

"Excuse me," Stiles says and picks up his phone. He knows all he has to do is speak aloud, but he doesn't think John has earned the right to know about Cora.

Stiles takes the phone into the living room and asks Cora how everything is going. She catches on quickly and speaks to him through the phone. 

"Peter's having a talk with Dr. Blackwood right now. They're close to an agreement."

Stiles exhales. Nods. "Okay. Okay, that's good. What's the timetable on that?"

"Still working on that," Cora says. "Dr. Blackwood wants to do it at night, which means tomorrow night because he needs time to go over everything so he can prepare. But Peter is trying to stress the need for expedience…"

"Yeah, Mom's… not good. We need to do this quick." Stiles looks behind him, sees John is eavesdropping. "What about our vet friend, what's going on there?"

"Give me a moment," Cora says. Stiles counts to three, and then Cora has the information. "Looks like they can hold him without bail or representation for longer than a normal suspect due to the illegal cyborg laws. They don't have anything on him, but they aren't letting him go that easily."

"Shit," Stiles whispers. 

"Peter thinks we can sneak Claudia into HaleCorp during the day for the surgery," Cora says slowly. "We just need a little help."

Stiles's thoughts immediately go to Boyd and Erica. "Yeah, no one really bothers the doctor in his lab, do they?"

Cora makes a thoughtful, worried noise. "This is dangerous. If Laura sees Peter…"

"He doesn't have to come," Stiles says with a frown.

"Like he'd let you do this without him," Cora scoffs.

Fully aware that John is listening to his end of the conversation, Stiles hums. "We'll see." He may need Peter to hang back with John to keep his detective's nose out of Stiles's business.

Though he's not sure he wants Peter and John to interact much. Peter's protective, and as much as the thought of Peter beating John's face in makes Stiles want to smile, it's probably not for the best in this situation.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you like it, but please don't pressure me to write or update faster. I'm doing my best.  
> Find me! http://yogi-bogey-box.tumblr.com OR http://green.dreamwidth.org


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